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.