The following poem is comprised of a bunch of the Facebook status updates of my friends and I.
Found Facebook Poem
Michael is armed with pencils, apples and matches.
Michael is saying it for the last time–Billie Jean is not my lover.
Michael is a loose floorboard.
Michael is going to write a history of failed magic.
Michael is not frightened of The Great Pumpkin, as certain people have insinuated.
Michael is clumsy with chopsticks.
Michael is off to play some baseball.
Michael is concerned that Rachelle thinks he tripped and accidentally fell on the baseball, when he actually DOVE and SMOTHERED it–thus preventing a run from scoring.
Michael is making the rules here.
Michael is doing the Tennessee Waltz, in spite of the smog.
Michael is the meanest most beautiful dirty city you ever seen.
Michael is as clever as cold coffee and whiskey.
Michael is bad, like Jesse James.
Michael is putting on his cutoff jean shorts, cranking Bob Seeger and washing the convertible.
Michael is surefooted and bound for adventure.
Michael is once again, moving pencils using only his mind.
Michael is asking the black ghost to please stay away from his door.
Michael is a sweet chariot that’s swinging low.
Michael is brown paper packages tied up with string.
Michael is lucky, lucky.
Michael is una bici muy rapida!
Michael is watching Nuns stroll down the street.
Michael is thinking that shadows fall equally on the holy and the lost.
Michael is gathering up the wind in the hollow of his hands.
Michael is initiating security command code 1229A.
Michael is playing below his speed.
Michael is not the pack leader.
Michael is betting it all on red. Again.
Michael is feeling like a 26 day old baby panda.
Michael is a couple of fat people, uninhibited, kissing on the sidewalk of a busy street.
Michael is full of glory, as the heavens give way in all directions.
Michael is doing fine.