The Woman In The Red Car
That bloody woman
She’s sitting there again
Got here before me
And parked in my
space
Forcing me to move elsewhere
And park my car in a different place
Which disturbs my daily routine
And puts me out for the rest of the day
That bloody woman
With her awful blood-red car
Sporting its tatty roof-rack
And child-seat in the back
Its dirty windows and an ugly scrape on the side
She can see the other spaces in this car-park
But none are so convenient
That bloody woman
Who never speaks to anyone
Just sits there reading her book
Waiting for the store to open
I know because I’ve watched her
I think she does it deliberately
Just to annoy me
But she cannot be oblivious to my feelings
That bloody woman
I don’t know how she manages to do it
She must get up extremely early
Just to beat me
It never used to happen
Then just once or twice
And now it’s all the time
She’s always there
That bloody woman
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