waiting on decency

this kindness is as impure as my desires;
to oft a ‘no’ is heard where acceptance is required.
requited? No…
they stream in front of the window
where I stoke loneliness with great swings of my arms
and I won’t speak to them;
their garbled tongue
grinds ears to pulp,
their whore pussies
sap lives and souls from the urethra.
they make you coffee
and pretend it’s enough
to satisfy your need for love
but you dream,
none the less,
of decency yet unborn.
swine swill for breakfast,
drinking flattened breasts
with your pearls of wisdom,
perhaps, maybe, could it be?…
yeah yeah – you and the rest
of your armchair shrinks
filled with ambitions and none of the substance to make it.
oh – it’s ok; i haven’t had feeling there for a while,
so you can do whatever you need to with that.
do you mind not mentioning just how you feel:
you know, can you not mention again
the sins of God’s creation?
i think that was the beginning of the end