If Only He Would Go Away

We rather wish that someone would lead him to a tree. They can be so useful for life and death. He might look more elegant from a distance. But this one decides to join us in this bar, sits at our table, displaying his filthy fingernails, his rather snotty tissues, sniffing, so audibly, so blatantly. Each half-hour or so he has a smoke, so leaves the room, permitting us to take a deeper breath, drawing somewhat cleaner air into our lungs. Ah, who has the courage to say please go away - though it would be better to use some choice language? But all we do is sit - just hope, ho hum! (Sep 2022)