You are the funnel circling the bathtub drain.
You gurgle incomprehensible complaints and accusations.
You suck vacuously at lavender scented air,
all the while choking back the bile of sewer sludge
that tickles your throat.
Your vortex pulls in stinky sock lint –
flushed out of hiding from between unsuspecting toes,
clumps of sloughed off hair and slimy scum.
Lots and lots of scum.
I watch and silently will the tub to drain faster
so as to leave as little residue as possible
once you are gone.
And for the umpteenth time, I wonder how it is
you ever got elected to office.