Personal space race
No need to save face
You don’t care about me
What will be will be
You’re sat in the aisle
Blocking the window
My crooked smile
As I’ve nowhere to go
Beleaguered bags in need of rest?
Looks like such a lovely nest
Politeness pulling to keep my mouth shut
Yet there escapes an awkwardly audible tut
Stirred as if it were a shout
Why do you look so put out?
I shouldn’t need a reserved sign
For an empty seat to be mine
Jonathan Owen
Illustration nick victor
Like the “tut” and slamming the point home at the conclusion
Comment by Phil Lowe on 12 April, 2019 at 10:03 pmwith a “snap” as sudden as the mouse trap!