Bitter Old Man

hostile, pungent, nasty, & redefining the art of having a chip on his shoulder he marches through the last specks of his burnt out existence telling us all how we should live our lives (spouting his rotting “wisdom” at everyone he sees) while regretting so very much of his own--- with wrinkled ancient skin flabby & sagging dark blue veins popping out just beneath the surface of his decrepit self lost in the deadening reflection of the polluted river he kneels by wondering why his wife left him wondering why he can’t get it up anymore the dirty homophobe walking on the college school grounds trying to flirt with young girls trying to remember what it was like when he could smell the roses but now all the roses have wilted & he can’t get past the fact that things are changing that things have changed and he’s lost in the moment of really being scared, terrified in the corner flipping out with his pathetic attempts at wit condemning us all to the hell he clenches on to he has to believe that it exists because it’s the only justice left for him but with the reality that his superannuated ideas just don’t cut the mustard anymore--- trying to pelt us with his cane trying to keep free from the rain and yet all the voices in his brain don’t allow him any peace from the pain which really fuels all of this disdain and narcissistic need for death to come sooner than later and some will say he is no longer loved and some will wonder just how he got to where he is and some will see that what he has become is simply unsavory and it’s just better to walk away when he enters the room but i have no sympathy for such bitterness i have no sympathy for laziness that comes with self-pity and waiting for that clock to tick that last tick i’m walking down a narrow street in st. petersburg looking for raskolnikov cause’ i got this old bastard’s number in my hand and his time is up i think we’ve had enough i’ll polish the candelabra for my young friend hell, i’ll sharpen his axe, and stand watch, outside the bastard’s building ready to alert him if anyone catches onto our “dastardly deed.”