Jumble

Tragic the tragedy
that happens in traffic,
I lap it up, laugh
and saints, they feel bad for me
cuz sadness is bad for me
and I find the worst of it maddening,
not like anger but the madness that makes sanity
seem like a fad to me,

Inside me is danger,
gladness rationed out radically,

damn
this is written shabbily,

not a line,
not a word,
no insight in any verb,
just a joke now,
a try hard broken spoke now,
who shoulda spoke later,
down some shaft of elevator,
or frieght train gate or
face of a gator

I'm ill, shaded
by the hue
of lord vader,
mauls double light saber,
miniscule majors..

..just a
rotten translator

of a rotten life,

wrought with strife
and plots of knife

and knives with plots
and tall roofs in sight,
wrought with spooks in nights
fishing
with
thin
spools of
gripe,

Satan may have spun
with that tool too tight,
I'm a fool in flight,
bound to clown
ghouls..

I might,
not bound to take
your shite,
or let you snuff, touch,
or ignite my lights,
or mush my hype,

you,

crushed to hear
the junk I write,
cuz I ain't no monk in white,
mine's a molten life,

molded

to be filled with fights,
and scolded wives,
this cold
no surprise
to open eyes,
if it floats it flies,
it spoke
it lies,

if it shows
it's shy,

if it grows,
it cries,

if it sows it pries,

if it doles,
it dries,

just a rotten man,

wish I woulda bought the plan
or demanded fans...
I coulda fanned
a flame at..

for some hand outs,

these taped up glasses
and wrists with rubber bands
don't really stand out,

and right now I'm on another land,

peanut butter spread
just to fumble jam,
that was no humble slam,

I was seething,
feeling numb and damned,
set on typing
till I stun the stans,
 I'm no number man,
just another blonde who's bland,

this

just another mumble
man,
if it reads and sees,
it thinks, it breathes

it writes,
and I don't fumble fam
I'm the sorry sum of man,
if that makes you sorry
then I've crumbled  sand,
life's a beach,
this
jumbled rants