Scrambled tidings of somewhat tepid joy waft across town, starting from the chocolate factory, that place people associate with frolicking (where free samples fall from the rafters). That may have been true some time ago, but the magic has faded. Now you’d be lucky to frolic for more than a few seconds before realizing you’re the only one in the place who wants to celebrate being there. It’s sterile and devoid of decor, with more boring steel surfaces than you’ve ever seen in your life.


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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