Ergonomics for ProphetsForgive my sophomoric assaults, my drunken aim. ![]() Overlook my broken podium. ![]() Do not steal me Lord from this orthodontic gauntlet, ![]() only assure me you know its end. ![]() ![]() The answers are printed upside down in the back of the text book, I say but they’re preoccupied, typing profanities into their calculators. ![]() I tell them judgment is coming, that it swore it would be here in the next hour or so, ![]() that the last 10% of the bottle is backwash. ![]() ![]() Ever feel like the designated driver in a car full of drunks, I ask, ![]() but no one communicates through Morse code anymore. |
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