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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