Anchorout and Mariner poem

Poem by an Anchorout Benign Pirate of the Brethren Union on San Francisco Bay, a ghost cooperate of Mariners, cruisers, fishermen and salvagers and rescuers who smell like a sound and drink in scourge or scorn, and laugh about it in the way, while cheering and needing and  eating like Lazarus, out of the rich man's trash cans and dumpsters, And we are survivers, paying no rent, mortgage or taxes, except for our booze, for we pay more taxes for our rum and Beer and wine then any cop or politician, so dare say anyone, that we don't pay our taxes, for our freedom, from rent, Utilities, mortgages and water and garbage, for we eat more garbage then we generate, And we have no carbon footprint to speak of at all, no oils spills by The Brethren Union of San Francisco Bay, only those connected to the lands and government of California, have caused any pollution. The Bird people of the Audobond Society are among our worse enemies here in San Francisco Bay, hate us, hate, hate, us is thier chief mantra and El Grass , El Grass is thier cry, eliminate the working and livaboard Mariners at the cost of human life and death, for Mariners and Anchorouts, with nowhere too, rest and  rest and sleep, the last vestage of freedom, the open waters of the bay and seas, And for he or she has conquered the waters,have conquered the World.