Problemator.

I eat problems alive
with my eyes and crap
not solutions, so much
as minor epiphanies: oh
hey. That wasn't a problem 
after  all? Was it? 

Turns out!  

See, I walk in made
of lightning and inner
piss stank to take shit
done, pop a big look  
on it all scary, and care
the hell out of it. Crack
a boom - oh, I'm sorry?

Did we want that a problem? 

Nah, not usually. Mood's 
way better, but not mine. 
I'm pissed it even was 
that way! I stalk out of there

like a meteor streaking fumes
from the hair fire I didn't
even know I had up my ass 

'til I saw the state 
of that room!

All these woe cases.
Doleful as bums stuck
in funk mode, and
I look around.

And I take one
look at it, all it
takes is one. 

And I'm like
ah jeez, this
again. DONE. 

Next!
  
A little sick of feeling
maybe, 
maybe, people just ask 
me around in case bad 
shit happens? Can't deal? 

But that would imply
a capacity to plan that
would have prevented
the thing. Most of the time

nothing goes wrong. 

Well, it wouldn't care 
to would it?