He’s still there
Still picking his
God damn nose
Nobody really ‘nose’
How horrendous he looks
I’m sorry
But I had to do that
He’s disgusting
I mean I’m disgusting enough
Standing here smoking my cigarette
But he has to be on a
Different playing field
Altogether
Wonder what his wife
Thinks of him
When he’s at home on the couch
Digging for that gold nugget wedged up his nostril
She must be insane
To want to sleep with that
After all of that
But she will anyway
‘Cos everyone has their thing
And I guess
Thinking about it
His isn’t the worst in the world
There are killers out there
Suicide bombers…
The lot
So looking at him now
He’s not so bad
He picks his nose
So bloody what
I’m prone to doing the same
From time to time
Even if I don’t go about
Publishing mine
For all the town to see
So I’ll let him pick
‘Til his nose falls off
His face
He’s harmless really
Maybe I’m the harmful one
Penning poems about
Nose pickers
I’ll stop after this one
Move onto
My next victim
Who will it be
Are you free?

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