I'm a real wild child. Oh-huh.

 

(no subject)

Okay, let's try THAT again. I just got home, ran my first game of 3rd ed tonite. REally went well, I loved confusing the hell out of them.

I'm a little bit more at peace than I've been lately, not too much existential doubt and ennui happening today. I worked, I ran, I came home, and now I'm chattering with some friends. So, in lieu of drama, you get poetry.

Inspiration strikes from
The funniest places
I can't even remember
When Erato smacked me
With the poetry stick
I never ever
Considered myself an artist
Art was about someone else
But not me
I can't draw a straight line
And there are days I can't
Whistle a happy tune
But when it's words on paper
I am one of the Seven Samurai
Maybe Gorobei
Probably more like Kyuzo
An honorable warrior
In a long tradition
Of combat wordsmiths
Sometime Jonathan taps me
On the shoulder
And tells me
That it's cool to be straight
Nights are Mike Watt's
And he tells me
That his band
Could be my life
And to pick up that axe
And swing it
Like the mighty warrior
That I can be
No
Not a warrior
More like a warrior priest
Combatting the evil in the world
While spreading the good word
Of "Fuck the boy bands,
And do it yourself!"