Single room without a view.

You’re nestled in my gut again.
Why do you insist on parking there?
I’m not hospitable enough.
And it’s expensive.
That double room has been reserved
by my ambition, my desires, my obese love.
As you can see sir, it’s already
at maximum capacity.
You can’t push in the queue,
where is your etiquette?
I know you seek to control me
but that just can’t be.
Go and find yourself somebody
tougher, somebody who knows what
they offer, what size of bed and
what material of curtains,
somewhere with fire resistant décor.
Some rooms have a nice sea view.
Have you tried Bournemouth?
I heard it’s lovely at this time of year.
Honestly, if you stick around,
I’ll get angry. I’ll get so angry
that I’ll cut myself off from the
world and I’ll shout. I shout loud,
you know? I won’t hold back.
I’m warning you.
Are you listening?
*Knock knock*.
Are you listening?
Okay. If you like, you can stay
for the night. I’ve changed the sheets
and I’ve sprayed some Febreeze.
I’ve plumped the pillows and I’ve
polished the wood.
Don’t overstay your welcome.
I have things I need to do.

  1. What a fun poem to read. An introduction, a rebuff, an invitation, and now separation. Wonderfully lyrical.

    • Oh, thank you very much kind gent. Thanks for reading.

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