You would just elbow your way
into my Creative Afternoons,
leaving them Unproductive,
Colourless, and positively Ghastly.
As for my Mornings…
my Precious Peacefulness
(Which I need to be a
Balanced, Sensible Human Being)
would Dissipate…
and to fill the HOLE
left in your wake,
I’d have to sit and listen
to fragmented
trivialities and inanities.
(Paragraph/Stanza break to… ‘Sigh’)
Whilst, you scratch like a ‘Man’,
dip the buttered knife
into my neat, little marmalade jar,
and ready Yourself
for the rest of ‘Your’ day
(Pause, to Control and Self-Centre)
… after ‘Mine’ has already been
absolutely bloody-butchered
by your ‘The-Whole-World-
Revolves-Around-You’ presence.
After giving it (out of Respect)
substantial thought and meditation,
it’s both a ‘Ta Very Much’
but (Unchangeably) ‘No, Thank You’.