poetry critical

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swan song to a bitter misunderstanding

i feel sickly,
rushing out of this unfamiliar room
   with my quickly- gathered clothes
and i
  avoid your siren-esque, eloquent
orations of romance,
  or whatever you call this false temporary garbage.
and i tune up the heartless indifference,
   i was there when no one else was?
well, baby isn't it more of a mishap:
   i imprisoned in the maddest
calls of the madcap
   and i trapped in something even more
desperate than love-thirsty?
well, baby, you love me?
    i laugh, sans comment.
   finally (for the first time)
to what merely compares to an uh-oh one night stand.
as i sigh from my parted lips,
    you fucking asshole.

22 Jan 07

(define the words in this poem)

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