AN UNDERSTANDING
She does not understand me.
Understand my method
or my madness
or the mayhem I am destined to create.
She fails to see
what is blindingly obvious to all
that I am greater
than the mundane mutterings
of the masses
that my genius is unparalleled.
She does not see how holding a job
is beneath me
that meeting mortals
is of microscopic importance
that taking out the trash
is a dirty job
and someone's got to do it
- someone else.
She doesn't appreciate my wit
my charm, my genius.
My mother does not understand me.
But perhaps you do
and perhaps you'll see fit
to remember that
when my rent comes due.
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