Warm Worm
WARM WORM
Watched his concertina movements
Across a concrete path
Headed away from the lush lawn
The green green grass of home.
Possible row with worm wife, maybe
A yelled discourse about divorce of course.
Where was he going, without her ?
Nothing ahead but sterile concrete
And a four meter brick wall -
Stupid worm choice, flexing his
Puffed-up male-ego concertina folds.
Easy to criticize when you’re not a worm:
Maybe she never appreciated all his worm work,
Nor laughed at his worm jokes.
He’s probably flexing his concertina now
For some other warm worm woman.
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