With apologies to Philip Larkin

I’m a bit off photography at the moment, so I’ve turned to poetry (of sorts).  So with apologies to Philip Larkin’s This Be the Verse, here it is:

They fuck you up, these snoring men
They may not mean to, but they do
They keep you wide awake, and then
Next day you feel dead tired and blue

They themselves don’t suffer much
Except when kicked by peevish wife
The snoring pauses at her touch
Then starts again with renewed life

Man hands on misery to spouse
By snoring like a drunken elf
So find a spare room in your house
And go and sleep there – by yourself!