“Tragedy,” by A.J. Huffman
Dec 20th, 2015 | By Defenestration
Vexing fact of reality, fateless truth:
flea markets do not sell fleas.
Vexing fact of reality, fateless truth:
flea markets do not sell fleas.
Come message me and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove
Of hash and tag and smiley face,
The punctuation masquerade.
That motherfucker He-man finally got to him.
Broke his spirit.
You used to believe in things:
Santa Claus,
the Tooth Fairy,
love,
life after love,
little people who lived in your TV and waited for you to turn it on so they could entertain you.
You believed that somehow you had been born without your parents having sex
(because who wants to think about that?).