Enrage. N rage.
Roast the hidden extrovert.

Suspended below the tight rope walker,
a four-pound grapefruit–laughing.

Not for its countrymen, not for its love.
Not for its bulbousness.

For its deceptiveness and strange bitterness.

Author: Aidan Badinger I am a poet. I write poems. Titles and subjects and subsequent readership are all part of one fragmented figment of our universe, and it's nice that we take it so seriously. Hopefully the craft remains and grows stronger for our children.

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