Your angry Passions rise,
Don’t tell the Press, for Heaven’s sake.
Such Action isn’t wise.
Go to the departmental Head
Or write to him, still better.
Don’t do your block, use Tact instead.
Provoke no vain Vendetta.
The Head’s Reply takes Time. By now
Your angry Mood’s abated.
His job is done. YOUR problem’s how
To get the Thing translated!
He has ‘inquired into the Matter,’
‘The position in Relation to-,’
He’s given the Former (and the Latter)
His ‘full Consideration’ too.
Thus patiently he treats your Case,
His trained Aplomb unshaken,
Saving his own Department’s Face-
And proving You mistaken.
This verbal poultice from his Pot
Of departmental Prose,
He plasters on the afflicted Spot-
The safest Cure he knows.
….Don’t rush, you Hotheads, to the Press!
Publicity’s not fair.
Don’t rashly add to the Distress
Head Office has to bear.
The Public Service’s Privacy-
Profane it not at all!
Why, What d’you think they’re meant to be?
At the Public’s Beck and Call?
By Whim Wham 1967, from the book Whim Wham Land.
The king of New Zealand satirical poetry, if I may say so myself.