bad day

I am writing this on borrowed time

on borrowed money which is a borrowed crime

I am trying to make a song out of wrong

I am trying to go short on something long

poetry and code and hacking and fun

ladies and gentlemen forgive the pun

anonymous cats and gullible rats

virginal sororities and busted frats

green palm trees besides grey warm shores

shut and barred windows but revolving doors

in my boredom and my intellectual prude

I pretend to be as wise as a middle aged dude

it was a mad word playing tunes and surreal dreams

running mission impossibles and les miserable themes

but I find it kind of funny and I find it kind of sad

the games in which I am winning I am really really bad



So I decided

All my heroes died and went to heaven

So I decided to grow up and make my own eleven

Team of cricket or team of heist players going on

While I figure out to make a bad poem to a hit song

Sure poverty was fun and anonymity had many thrills

But I would like to spend the winter coming without chills

White walkers with blue eyes are coming for me and you

George and Michael and Prince and Chester are dead too

Wipe the drives and clean the logs

climb the trees and wait for the dogs

lose your phones and wipe them clean

inspect the traffic and wait for green