There are no more pardons.
Brutal in simple reality.
You,
Beneath my gentility.
Stupid without confession.
Crying like a girl.
Polluting like a child's seat.
And I,
Impatiently awaiting your demise.
Murdering the mailman.
Suffocating your creative rights.
Euphoric in apathy.
And you,
Rotting the alphabet.
Whimpering with your
shallow exulted swagger.
Gasping profane neglect.
And I,
Pleasing my right to value.
Puritanically shunning the dynasty.
Letting the axe fall in your scarcity.
My graffiti on your joy.
Shit smears on the side mirrors of your vision.
And you,
If I am successful, feeling this with out my presence.
My Company
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