“Simple” by Phedra Johnson
I find it simple to point my pen at:
The world is crawling with it.
Injustice makes for high scoring slam performances.
Everyone in the room can pump their fists together.
Unified and "Right On!"
Injustice, like dead babies, is decidedly bad.
But who is pointing pens at themselves anymore?
Because that shit is hard.
In fact, it's very unsimple.
To get your soul buck naked and say,
"You know what? Dead babies don't bother me.
Video games and porn have made me just that fucked up."