Here is my composition for the delightful Ms Robinson's challenge, the details of which can be found here.
The Postman Always Knocks At No. 5
“I think this is yours,” I say with a smile
Handing over the brown cardboard box
“He brought it to me, though it says 'No. 3',
When nobody answered his knocks.”
“Have you opened this? Have you had a look?”
He examines the box for a sign.
“Because if you did, if you lifted the lid
Whatever you saw is not mine.”
“Well, really. I’m hurt. As if I would look.
You should know that I really don’t care
It means nothing to me, and I didn’t see
Your dildo and lace underwear.”
“They really aren’t mine, you nosy old cow!
These are items I’m hoping to sell.
It’s just a figurine, it’s nothing obscene,
And fabric to package it well.”
“I don’t give a stuff if you wear a bra,
With your 'figurine' stuck up your arse.
I know you obsess about wearing a dress
I see you at night through the glass.”
“My windows? Well, yes, you looked through my box
The word “private” means nothing to you.
You should get your own life, stop looking for strife
And get your own parcels to view.”
“Next time I’m asked if I’ll sign for your post
As it’s too big for your letter box,
I will tell him no way, just take it away.
Go pick up your own cocks and frocks.”