Here is a funny little poem about the dirty lies we are tolled every day…
Fax on the Ground
The machine is plugged in
They have maid
The paper
Fooly, loaded
Running atop speed
Pay know mine
To the fax on the ground
As rolling in the sheet
With reams of iniquity
In a flooring coverup
A forced
Beaten to a pulp
Fiction
As in difference
Between wooden will
And feat on fire
