i hate livejournals - March 22nd, 2009

In keeping with american tradition
foreign labor was commissioned
Asymmetrical though not arbitrarily positioned
In the patches and paisleys and non-parallel lines.

To adorn these walls in our haven of wood
Residing in disrepair as very few would
Masking the mold the best that we could
With pink, green and yellow just as we should.

Adorned in patches forever was he
For the holes in his brain and the holes in his jeans
Renewing disrepair with strange patterns unclean
He’ll change his mind before he’d change his scene

Covering ground, she’s all about town
Yesterday’s style, sans the gown
Even when she’s gone she’ll be around
In a flurry of paisley she’ll stand her ground.

If she’d only read between the non-parallel lines
Then perhaps she’d find the time
Frantic, fraught-less, thoughtless, yet kind
It’s between these lines she’ll lose her mind.

For years to come we’ll mock tradition
Until the disease goes into remission
Living for the sole end of acquisition
Of a more fashionable disposition.

Hey brother, could you spare a dime?
For the patches and paisleys and non-parallel lines.