Poem for Gert and Bert

It may be that I seemed unduly curt,
But almost all of my damp soul was hurting,
And the way you stood there grinning, blurting
"King of kings!" and "Bird thou never wert!"
Romantic? No, I thought you merely pert,
Without a conscience, carelessly asserting
Your superiority, diverting
Our attention — I had been inert.

I told you I thought you were being flirty;
Swinging round your body was a skirt
That flared. I said, "I'm living in a yurt,"
And you declared that I was being shirty,
Using tactics that were mean and dirty.
Maybe so. We both became alert.