You Perfect People

This is how I feel when I get confronted by people who point out my flaws in the truckload in front of other people.

Do you mind, my mum says,
Not squeezing the toothpaste tube
In the middle and leaving it
A shapeless squashy mess;
And do you mind
Not fishing the strawberries
Out of the strawberry jam
But eating some of the jelly stuff
In between as well;
And another thing:
Do you mind putting your
Toenail clippings in the waste bin
Instead of shooting them
All round the bathroom;
And my dad joins in with
Oh yes, and while we’re about it
Do you mind
Not filling the car’s ashtrays
With sticky sweet papers
So that I get goo on my fingers
Every time I put out a fag;
And my sister,
Who’s enjoying this, says,
Do you mind leaving my comb alone:
I’m forever cleaning your
Ratty old hairs out of it.
Well actually, I do mind
And I’m thinking of a few things
To throw back at
You perfect people.
But for now:
Do you mind packing in the
Nagging, niggling, binding, bitching,
Picking, pecking and criticising and
Do you mind getting off my back
Do you mind me screaming



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