Agent West + Agent East

I’ve always asked myself why you stick around.
Dominic hiding again from the sole
Dominicana
The Siberian.
The Welsh Witch of Grey.
The Visayan.
The Tibetan Leader.
And Ultimately; The Shanelendga.
The Northern Star of Bethlehem.

How could I portray you in non-indicitive terms
As if you’ve done something good here?
Report your worth, and fall a dose with me.
You had to deal with the creeps of neanderthal.
And a broken Aristocracy.
Inherit Oceania.
Split the Difference.
Leave Asia alone.

Then your stupid-donate-now
Of Black Children in pelts and cracked-out
On drugs
Not knowing why their crackers always taste
Asbiline.

You never taught them our dialects.
British-American with a shnoz that doesn’t mean much.
Trade your ways and I can’t marry you in The Church anymore.
You converted somewhere along when I was 45.

I thought it to be revenge.
I thought it was a hit on my personal life.
Jealousy and ruining everything and everyone around me.
Get them on your side then feel the sting of peer pressure.

I never liked much anyways.
I like my time.
I dream to be a Writer after all this.
Professionalism of Agency + Military ways.

I rather doubt than know you lied this whole time.
Your watch is exquisite,
French-Swiss excuse.
And Milian is haunted by white poplars.

Get Lost!
Is what I say.
And you say you never stopped since I was 3.

The 64 Trillion Dollar Question.
Why are you still lingering here Camus?

The kids couldn’t tell a mushroom from peyote to a damn
Bag of weed.
They gots the downzst.

How unfortunate.
You sold out to become a split-coder.
And I have never had a fuller caseload since.
Helter Skelter indeed, since we crossed over the pond.

I went round-the-world.
You just flew.
Good for you, in your coup.
Mutiny Manifest of Marriage; you fucked up.

Now there’s no more Catholics.
Protestant eerie crys.
And even the old Jews;
Still try to reach me in Kabbalah.

All your old exan-texans.
Schloppotstoop.
I told you, you were gay.
Neither am I.

Just an Ace-in-the-Hole.
You?
I’m still wondering Partner.
67 + 81.

How long am I going to wait for you to stop cheating?
I’ve no idea.
As long as you hold me tight.
Don’t tell me anything else.

I already found out during that nap, dear.
Smile elsewhere.
Delicately.
And rack the debt on forgiveness.

We haven’t known each other that well this whole time,
Have we?