You want to talk about yourself, your
Ailments and your crappy job, your
Grimly banal interactions with your
Family and your friends, people I
Have never known. Okay, but you
Must wait your turn. A line
Of others much like you has formed.
Each in it seems to think that, because
I'm considerate, I don't assume that
Anyone would find much interest in
My life, and, therefore, I don't say
A lot, I must be eager to hear them
Explain what's riveting in theirs.
I'm not. I wish they all would leave,
Would shuffle, chastened, from my
Doorway, thinking, "I'm a bore."