Pirate Material #4: Sit And Writ A Riddle
Yo I sit and writ a riddle
by Max McGovern
Munchin on tropical skittles
As I’m sittin in the middle of the floor,
And my riddle gets me thinking about
Which one really came first.
The chicken or the god damn egg.
And how two plus two equal four.
Celled up on my boys and told em to bring bitties ova. And a keg.
We tapped em both, kicked the keg and then kicked the honeys out.
We was ready to leave and get more. And different ones.
None of us remembers the last time they saw the suns face
And now we are really feeling ready leave this place.
I step one step and look about.
Everything is right and im hopin tonight there is no fight
Cuz I remember what happened last time.
Poor bloke dropped a dime on a mate of mine
We finished up in time to clean his blood before the bad men you call coppers came up to convict us.
One of my mottos is invictus.
Its latin. Look it up.
Looked up at the moon and it tells me a good story.
Feelin the night in all its glory
And then some geezer walks and botches it all up.
Splashes me sneakers with the spatter from his puddle
And then slips me an awkward look in front of tuttle.
My boys bloods starts to cook
Cuz they’re rowdy and drunk.
My bloods boilin too but I tell them a few jokes
To cool things off a bit.
Bit by bit we keep walkin to the bar
Or some party when we see the finest shawty from our car.
Girl what you doin tonight, ha. Ha. Ha.
Got tired’a walkin on the sidewalk
Walked underground in the stream tunnels
And rolled some blunt funnels into blunts
My boy with the candy gives me some runts
And the flavor explosion reminds of them skittles.
Damn, I says, Maybe I should be the bloke with the candy.
We walk past a liquor store and I’m only half drunk
So I buy some brandy. We kill the bottle
And peel the label for the collection
That one day we are going to set up in flames.
Watch the fire of pastimes and blacked out
Probably blackout while firin it up
And then start to fill another cup with labels.
Anyway we could sit here talking and telling fables
But I don’t like to bullshit. I like to spit
And I don’t like quitters.
I don’t like awkward shitters. By that I mean restrooms not people actually shittin.
You know when ya feel like cant go cuz someone else is listenin.
Man wish I could punch that bugger listenin in the face so I can piss.
Maybe it will work if I try and hiss.
Now I just look like a jackass,
Might as well jack off in public.
Anyways that reminds me,
Have you got a jack for me mate?
A cigarette. What you don’t call em by his name.
Its only proper. Light my cig and warm like copper.
The end is ever present and lit. I like it.
I see a stop sign but im not a stopper
Don’t give a damn about a copper
And im too stoned to know if one’s about.
He could be listenin to every word I say
And I wouldn’t know it. I bet its that bloke from the shitter,
He would be a cop, now innit.
Picked up my girlfriend for a stroll
Crossed the bridge of the old gun troll
And find greener grasses on the other side.
Saw the ocean too and the tides was turnin
My feet start burnin from the sand
But I don’t litter my cigarette. Cuz im in a band called earth
That shit aint right, and it aint pirate to trash.
Maybe thrash shit and break it
Start a fight or fake it and the remake it into somethin good.
Recycling is a state of mind too,
Mine runs like a machine on jet feul.
Lubed up, lipped and then left like a coffee cup by my lady.
I feel a little better but im still feelin shady.
The night before we started drinkin at four,
So I guess that makes it the morning
But I was just tryin to describe the setting outside by saying night.
Man my mind aint running quite right.