never any good at these

titles to this shit seems trivial

much more effort expended in the name

than the meat of it

i have abandoned enough avenues

to know i am bereft of value

besides what my back can hold

despite the protests of the old war wound

give me pine boughs

an axe to build proper shelter

a stream to clean the blade

of my bootknife

scrape my hull clean

of these barnacles life has stuck me with

leave the overwrought words

the too many lettered devils

as i am a simple man of sorts

and for the love of all the heathen gods

dont interrupt the moon

for she was made out of spite

and we have notes to compare