At window where the ticket’s bought
The pane of glass contains a slot —
A tiny half-moon hole through which
Communication carves its niche.
This barrier, it would appear,
Means ticket lady cannot hear
The information I will tell;
I cannot hear her words, as well.
(The microphone — supposed aid —
Just amplifies this crude charade.)
So everything I say, say twice
And she repeats, though imprecise.
Transaction done, I step away…
Or were we done? I cannot say!