Tonight's Poet Corner: Fucked Up
Fucked Up by Belinda Roddie I'm a lesbian-loving thespian who dresses their best and rests their balance on flimsy psychiatric tests. But stressed as I am, I'll bend over backwards 'til my lungs depress for your smile's finesse while my brain's in distress. Take my arm, Rorschach: No, not the Watchmen maniac. We're going dancing. And I won't look at your inked face. Just your broken back.