on a relationship based in pity

you're like every roadsign

telling whichwaywhen

directions.

(being by all intents a passive objector)

i said, without getting mad,

"i'm fucking sorry, hope you're glad."

a day later, to him i said "i'm only us.

will you confront and pay your fee?

or will you cower and tremble?"

and in a bout of my shaking body:

"broke broke broke," is what i said.

maker of persons, bless luck

over me and my loving Clown,

and id, the jester of whom i sing.

she is not you, streetsign. you're telling me to stop and yield,

without replacing my organs with dog shit.

you made me a stooping dimwit.

but now i say, without raising my voice,

"i choose not to kiss your ass, boy."