Code Green, we’re thinking

If it’s possible for wishes to go sour

As if some karmic polarity pulled its

stab at a joke with irony-

Too bad it’s stuck down the hilt to the laughing me months ago,

straight to the belly.

Code Red, it seemed, we were thinking

No big deal, we’ll weather it through- fucking storm signal number 2,

Cause we were two hurricanes in a city that poured

All its malcontents on the streets on a sunday afternoon

and we came out okay.

Till we got to the next day.

It’s funny cause when you wished for the hard times you didn’t mention you’d need a pegleg to do it for you, or a dirty not-so-secret coming back to haunt you, or issues of what’s real and what’s not and if it matters if the plan was still to find someone to stick his dick in when he’s bored when it’s not part of it in the first place, so probably yes, we’re all jerks jerking off at the same face.

Code Green again, pull out the dagger, we’re thinking

we’ll weather it through, over signal number two,

here’s a toast to all the bad things you’ve wished to happen

and to the irony,

cause what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.


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