Marx and Marzipan

Why is it only after you said
you would never marry me
I begged you to marry me
and when you forbade me
to lust after your sister
I seduced your sister
– tried to seduce your sister
– made a fumbly bumbly
humbling dumb pass at your sister
who still won’t talk to me
and it’s been three years now
you’d really think she’d have gotten over it already,
for god’s sake –
moving on…

What is it in the human condition
or, all right, my particular kinda human condition,
that only when the negative has been placed
only when rejection is assured
will I feel the slightest bit of comfort
in making the first sort
of forward move?

What kind of crippling incident must have occurred
to transform me
into this misshapen unthing
that behaves unlike the others
of his ilk
if his ilk exists at all?

Hell, why am I even asking you
when you stopped speaking to me
soon after your sister dropped me
so this is just another one of those exercises in futility
that I’d be famous for
if anyone was left
to pay me any attention at all?

Well?
Answer me!

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