Unrepentant

A calculated choreography of mutual
grief? Perish the very thought. Though
there is great synchronicity they are
after all twin little black imps
and like monkeys, what one does
the other takes pains to repeat
so there is a chorus of painful
plaints from two very small fellows
who feel dreadfully aggrieved that
their interests are being casually
shunted aside in my cruel disregard
for their perishing state of extreme
hunger. The chorus begins with
a moan and a whimper, at first
reproachful as they gather their
resources to attract my attention
otherwise engaged in matters of far
less importance to life and death while
their lives hang in the balance for
they are starving, little tykes, their
disbelief at my lack of guilt an insult
to our relationship, they reeling in
disbelief at my callous reaction of
'Wait a minute, will you, please?'