a descent into poetry insanity |
| we’re sane here, a fact documented by the wealth of psychiatric evaluation given to every soul. our heads have been shrunk so many times that inkblots are the graffiti on our walls, and every room boasts a couch complete with neutral walls and a recorded voice asking us for our feelings. we feel sane, of course. the papers we keep in our wallets—government issued and sealed—say so, and they wouldn’t lie. not at all. Author's Note ▶︎ |