Poems rarely get personal.
It’s not in their nature at all.
But a few of those least favourite things,
Are not at all hard to recall.
–
Like those people that drive too close,
Or dogs that bark in the night.
Those with beards, not kept trim,
Or a joke that gives one a fright.
–
People in big hats, looking silly,
Having nowhere to park,
Unsubscribing over and over,
Treading on a snail in the dark.
–
Shop assistants with faces glum,
Fast food that’s horribly slow,
A Polly telling a bare faced lie,
A screw left over with nowhere to go.
–
Eggplant, spinach and cabbage,
A lack of detail in TV mags,
Biscuits that don’t have chocolate,
False smiles and holes in bags.
Plastic forks and stairs without rails,
Late trains and very long queues.
Personal, but there all the same,
Simply things I wouldn’t choose.