NaPoWriMo 1 - Our Flat

Our flat

When Paul moved in

I unpacked myself

First by droplets

Then whole organs

I'm surrounded by tubs of rotting food

And empty vodka bottles

It's time we did some dishes

Once we get the strength

I'd like to eject the rubbish from my flat

As the phlegm is ejected from my throat

I slither among my things like mucous

Collecting decay and slowing down

I've a copy of Bukowski

Everyone's too embarrassed to read

We've still not unpacked

There is no space

We never did anything there anyway

Our flat is packed with stolen goods

Of value totalling six pounds

Prime among them the Causewayend Code:

We keep our hands to ourselves

And never hurt with words.