I hope that apple pleases you,
because each time you sink your teeth
slowly through its ruby skin,
to let your lips suck like a noisy lover
at the creamy flesh within,
I get the urge to punch you
full square in the face.
It’s the same whenever you crunch crisps
with that fucking gormless far off stare,
while your jaws grind slowly like
the ignorant cow you are -
every time I pray you choke,
on those golden fragments.
Alas you never do.
like when you’re slurping soup,
the ponderous dipping of your spoon,
and the constant chink of metal on the bowl,
makes me want to grab you by the throat,
and squeeze until your eyes bulge and your head
lolls face down in the gloop.
Not that I ever mention this (till now),
but there are occasions when I wish
you’d notice how things are and ask
why every time you do these things,
I leave the room until you’re done.