The Wayward Corner Painter, Again
We all watched as you painted yourself in a corner
Time and time and time and time and time again
Over this or that, wearing us out with your contortions
Your dubious devotion to your “unassailable” logic
So acutely aware of the shortcomings of others,
Beliefs, preferences, tastes, mores, modi operandi
A never-sated lamprey on your — and the audiences’ — energy
Waiting for the inevitable…
…when you noticed that, this time,
You had no poorly framed door to scramble out of, to escape
From all the absolutism that is weakly underpinned
By nothing but the lattice of self-doubt
But.
We love you, and we will cradle and coddle
As is necessary
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youre better than i am… i will love, but my coddling has limitations. patience is a currency earned by the willing… paint dries; toss em a sandwich and let them wait it out.