Oh Miriam, pseudo-German, now you call it a day.
If it is possible for an opinion to be worth less than nothing,
It was yours.
And yet, you showed the tenacity of a limpet,
While being as repellent as a slug.
It feels different now, you said, from when I arrived,
Yes, we say, isn’t that great?
You are the last of the idiots, and your leaving will not be mourned,
Spawn of a zombie, not that we needed that fact confirmed,
Perhaps it is not your fault.
Your coat of many colours has stood as a signal
Of everything that makes us recoil.
The mouse who crept,
Around the house,
Disdaining all who dwell
Within this place.
Even those who cleaned up after you, and
Emptied the dishwasher after you.
It is inevitable that you will take yourself to the next place,
Maybe one day you will grow up a little, but
I can show you the cupboard where my fucks are kept,
It is bare, there is not one left to give for you.
So, Miriam, pseudo-German, wearer of zany clothes,
Take your diluted, millennial shit, and depart.
I hear extinction rebellion is missing a fuckwit,
It’s probably you.