I chipped away at chores the last three days,
collected calm and tried to do things right.
I watched my mouth in speech and eating ways,
so why are my green trousers feeling tight?

That doing right repays me well enough
I know from both experience and theory.
But waiting for repayment can be tough,
and constant self-controlling makes me weary.

So listen to me murmur a complaint
and let my little tantrum have a voice.
Alone there is no merit in restraint,
and ventilation only makes my choice
more visible – it purifies the air
and let’s me duly dally with despair.