States of Being

This poem is a Google Adwords ad intruding into the sidebar of your heart. It’s a 1-800-LAWYERS commercial
 making you money off your personal injury. It’s a brutal, bloody UFC bout
 weak in its ground game but knows its Jiu-Jitsu 
and it’s got you on the mat, begging you to tap out. This poem is FUBAR,
 a SNAFU waiting to happen. It’s the tear gas America uses against its own
 […]

Continue Reading →