In all my life,
 of all the things to say,
 
 I really can’t say it
 any other way,
 
 than,
 “I’m not here” —
 
 but just to make it
 perfectly clear:
 
 If you show up
 at my house
 on my day off,
 
 with your husband,
 
 and I’m sure
 he’s a great guy...
 
 yeah, I’d like
 to meet him,
 
 but where was I?
 
 Oh yeah! —
 
 at my house,
 with your husband,
 
 on my day off
 and unexpectedly,
 
 and you want me
 to make you both
 a strong ass coffee?
 
 Yeah, I’m sorry,
 
 but I’m not here
 for your treats,
 
 and I’m sure
 you can probably
 
 sit somewhere
 down the street,
 
 much more comfortably,
 
 with the bourgeois.
 
 Yeah, go ahead,
 
 put it in the book.
 
 Eat a dick, bitch.
 Eat a dick, bitch.
 Eat a dick, bitch.
 
 And I know
 you do.
 
 Good for the two of you.