So that it may seem pleasing to you
My thoughts are filtered for little bits of sand
And scattered over a wide area
Where men and women of the mind pick
And glean and organize into a neat array
That hopefully makes me look like a crazy person
Whose randomest musings and perverse word associations
Are insta ready
So that it may be palatable to you
The story of my life is kneaded and stretched and looped
Over and over again on a stainless pole
Until the whole thing becomes a swirly roll of toffee candy
You know, the kind that’s pretty because it was beaten and contorted until it was
But actually started out pretty ugly
If you ask me
So that it all seems self-deprecating to you
My process is edited and the names redacted
The PR team is divided
The electorate misguided
I steal criticism meant for my neighbors
And play it on my private radio
That has been by any standard pretty public
So is now clear to me