A while ago I was inspired to write this poem after realising that everywhere I'd worked had one of these...............
GLUTTONY
Oh here she comes, like a hippo in heels
the office ‘food monitor’ who spies on my meals
Go and sit down, you look like a fool
with your hands on your hips, all wide eyes and drool
No you can’t have a look, no you can’t have a sniff
no I won’t swap with yours, unless yours is a spliff
I open a salad, she says, “eugh, is that grass?”
and wrinkles her nose like she’s just smelt her ass
She wants my Greggs pasty bag to rub on her cheek
then she’s lost in the moment, the food fetish freak
I open a cake box and she runs to fetch Marion
so now I’ve got two of them, like vultures on carrion
She says, “I know that I shouldn’t but I feel that I must”
and snatches my donut, she’s broken my trust
‘’Jeez, you fat lump eat your own food
this daily assault on me is just so damn rude’’
‘’I’m sick of your diet lies and that ‘glandular’ bollocks
oh and on ‘fish and chip Friday’ it’s not haddock, it’s pollock’’
Frozen in time, like an elk in a bind
her eyes well with tears, how could I be so unkind?
Her mouth starts to tremble, the jam falls from her lips
still, it’s better mashed in the carpet than stuck on her hips