The king of bores

Life was happening. You did not see

It was being unboxed around the bus

Colours, shutters, clouds in windows, graffiti

You did not see them. Instead

You acted as if we were not there

To appropriate a metaphor

You showed us your underwear

You did not acknowledge us. Instead

You invited us into your brain

Through the implement clamped to your head

In a soliloquy of the inane

Some voices are mellifluous. Not yours

It irritates. You are the king of bores