(Three more to go!)

Once upon a time, I read that the perfect age for writing quality poetry is twenty-three. Apparently most of T.S. Elliot’s stuff came out then, the rest having to do with prose. I realized January 19ththat I will turn twenty-four in three months, and since I started writing some poems before it’s too late: forty-six poems at twenty-three. I’ll post each Friday until the last week of March, then I’ll post one a day until my birthday on April 30th. Here’s number 3:

USPS: The most efficient drug dealer in the world
USMF: The rare, unheard of assassins
NASA: The ex-space exploration
PETA: The crew that kills more animals than saves
FOTF: The family that focuses on all the wrong things
ABHE: The non-college, collegiate
WWII: The proof of her corruption

People will hate those opinions, but
Don’t tell me I should be ashamed of myself. I’ve yet to meet an
institution that shouldn’t.