Do not whistle

Do not whistle

My head will not turn

Even when the sound

Is not lost

In the hubbub

Of bird cries

The shrill trill

Of well trained dog owners

The poorly executed

Whistle is rarely tuneful

Even when heard

Too sharply piercing

As painful as a crosscut saw

A barely resined violin bow

What leads you to the conclusion

It is something

I would be happy to hear

I am not a dog

Wolves howl

And owls hoot

Consign the whistle

To history

It is a sorry cat call

More akin to barracking

Than a compliment

If you require

My attention

Show me a courtesy

Call my name

I will be sure to do the same

When it is my turn

Not that shouting in public

Is a sign of fine breeding

Oh and that is a phrase

Best left to die

Along with the bottom pinch

Cleavage ogle

And the over familiar

Calamitously creepy

Hand on a thigh.