A Matter of Discipline

James Reeves

Paunch foremost, shambling, dilatory,
The school porter came to the school play.
Although we call him Sergeant-Major
Nothing of him now is military
Except perhaps his waxed moustaches.
But when he saw those mimic soldiers,
The slovenly parade-ground antics,
And heard the callow actors mock
The old commands, who knows what stirred
Of an obscure allegiance hidden
In his slack nerves, to protest bidden?
Perhaps an instant's brief suspension
Of many years' passivity
His unused muscles mobilised
To stand correctly to attention.