Pardon My French

Dignity living on the lam,
trying to act like it
gives a damn about standards,
two fucks about
philandering with flakes.

Living out of a car with self-slamming brakes;
crashing down a riverbank of righteousness-
captain, make me walk the
wooden plank.

Everyone’s a pirate and, given this anarchic environment, everybody’s pulling rank.

Empathy its own fugitive, but if I can be frank, an initial lukewarm reception turned punitive has me drawing blanks.

When did we
resort to
prison shanks to solve
problems in paradise?

Pardon my French, but if this is some grand cosmic prank, I missed the fucking punchline.

But that’s fine,
because I must be

Christ, even God wouldn’t swipe right on that anxiety.


2 thoughts on “Pardon My French

  1. Sounds like you feel a ton of dissatisfaction toward the current situations, but hey, what can you do? You’re NOT in control of everybody else around you, you can only make sure, that you stay in line, keeping yourself in check!

    Liked by 1 person

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