SOUR MILK.

"The Breakfast Chronicles."

I don’t want to wait
for love,
for a white dove,
for a message from above;
for joy,
for talk so coy, 
for another boy;

I don’t want to wait
for a dream,
for peaches and cream,
for a baby to float down the stream;
for this wish,
for my potato and steak dish
for in this plentiful sea-another fish;

I don’t want to wait 
for time,
for your dime,
for my tequila’s lime;
for another friend,
for a “letter you’ll send”,
for this relationship to end;

I don’t want to wait 
for an hour,
for the milk to go sour,
for you to buy more eggs and flour;
for a ride,
for the tour guide,
for my turn to be a bride;

I don’t want to wait
for redemption,
for your undivided attention,
for the only exception;
for freedom,
for a little wisdom,
for a place in God’s kingdom;

I don’t want to wait
for money,
for the Easter Bunny,
for this joke to be funny;
for-ever,
for never,
for you to be clever;

I don’t want to wait
for scrutiny,
for an opportunity, 
for a better community;
for the sun to go down,
for the bucket to fall on the sad clown,
for everything to burn in this mad town...