Bending my ear


What is wrong with you?
Curtain twitching before dawn;
peeking at sleepy stopouts,
tutting like it’s not decent,
were you never guilty of being young?

What is wrong with you?
Whining at the slightest ceiling creak –
if you weren’t pacing the boards,
and in turn, irritating the stalking grump beneath,
you would sleep through the tinkle of wizened bladders
being emptied with relief.

I despise your malicious cobble of gossip and lies;
Tell me no more of ‘er and that man cohabiting,
‘e with his filthy fingernails and smelly ‘air,
‘omeless people sleeping in corridors –
if you can’t say who saw them,
why insist the rumours are true?

Your vintage tales of stolen roses;
of immoral acts detected in a neighbour’s busy bed;
of sex uncovered in a public passage,
are blotted with the fingerprints of the dead
and coated with ancient dust, and yet
your words hint at today’s press.

Your fiction that this itchy place is a den of iniquity,
and the understanding that you consider it a disgrace
must be forever maintained.

How does your trick of buying stolen meat
fit in with the image you wish to portray?
Or is it your design to be judged a hypocrite?

You could fill your silly days with useful deeds,
instead of being a nuisance.

Stop complaining aboutย  your smoke-tarred lungs, your diabetes,
do what you will with your aching bunions, sore back,ย  creaky knee,
but drop your bad attitude, and look for a solution.

Help reduce the plastic garbage that heaps;
feed the heartbreaking hunger that creeps;
staunch the thickening blood that seeps,
leaking crimson stains to rust our limping planet.

There are millions more needy than you,
and they could use your assistance.
Find an Oxfam shop and volunteer.

I apologise – that’s a crap idea.
I’d rather you go to the Hospice or an animal charity;
I work for Oxfam and I’m sick of you bending my ear

The Daily Post #Volunteer

ยฉJane Paterson Basil


23 thoughts on “Bending my ear

    1. Not particularly – I’m just sick of my neighbours regurgitating the same gossip day after day, and whingeing about their minute troubles. They’re bored, lonely and bitter, and they never lift a finger to help anyone, unless there’s a reward. Every time I look at these types, I want to tell them to get a voluntary job, but I only wrote this to belatedly cover the word prompt ‘Volunteer.’

      Liked by 2 people

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