So he said
"Now *would* you take the trash outside" you say,
So confident that all you've said before
Must with its easy humor gain rapport,
And gently, smoothly, force me out the door.
"Now *would* you take the trash outside" you bray,
Offended that I deprecate your wit,
You stand upon your stage and pitch your fit,
Perform your heart to rags--but here I sit.
"Now *would* you take the trash outside" you shriek!
Above my world you circle. I am weak.
Your vulture's heart forgets the good you seek--
Now all you want is flesh within your beak.
The structure of your scene is still too tight.
I need a beat, a chance to choose what's right.
I've taken the trash out innumerable times,
I've taken the trash out in inclement climes,
I've taken the trash out 'cuz that's what I do,
But I won't take the trash out when you tell me to.
Or something like that...