Dear Elissa Nicole Robertson,
Life is not a spark in space
an episode of will and grace
controversial yet mundane
Deborah’s messing with your brain 
even scientologists
know there’s more to all of this
search the ruins for trapped doors,
wonder what you're put here for
simple as a hint of gas climbing nostrils as you pass
making Harvard’s graduates feel childish when they laugh at it
climb the rungs to kingdom come,
sour patch to acid tongue a
are you opposed to having fun?
You clench the world between your buns.
you could do better, you could do better,
you could be the greatest man in the world.
you could do better, you could do better,
you could be the greatest man in the world. 
your life is always the post of something else.
Where is the present in the way that you present yourself?
and it's disgusting how little that you try,
the existential equivalence of pink eye.
drink alone and watch tv
you’re expecting harmony,
tap your tune with silver spoons,
and the loving pending doom.
guiding satans steady hand,
forcing beatles to despand.
it's ego freaks and drama queens,
the young at heart know what I mean
