The Least You Could Do

The least you could do

is serve your lies

and your bitter words

on one of your pricey,

rectangular dinner platters,

drizzled with honey

and covered in that

annoying parsley garnish

you seem to be obsessed over.

Add a scoop on the side

of cheap vanilla ice cream

that tastes more like

laundry detergent

than anything.

Hire a waiter

or a butler

to serve it

to me,

because you are

too cowardly

to hand it to me

yourself.