By: Patrick Michael
It seems as though everything I do is cursed like a sailor,
but I never signed up for any defense programs,
so I guess that makes me a pirate.
Get me a colander and I’ll grab a wooden spoon,
lets find the flying spaghetti monster and see what he’s doing!
Damn seas are overheating due to global warming, or the idea that when I sign a canvaser’s document about how i’m against fracking,
they investigate where I live and make fun of me for being homeless.
And I don’t know how else to tell everybody that the war is over.
That’s why these conflicting points of view are crimes against humanity.
They keep telling me i’m wrong so I move on to prove my suggestions with documentation.
I am not the enemy,
I am simply a messenger of some sort with a mixed bag of tricks.
I could be a metaphor for the disagreement we made.
I said then lets agree to disagree and let bygones live and let them be themselves.
I’m trying to wash the dishes so the bubbles sink to new lows so that my highest significant source would be one that is out of touch with the rules.
In other words I follow them to the dot.
I could have sworn myself into an obsessive compulsion to fix me.
I am not broken, I am not wounded, I am over this game, it’s rigged anyway.
I threw the match into the air and watched them try to use an illusion for groundbreaking disinformation.
There must be a way to finish the story, and make a solution with a sum.