I was going to read this poem because I got here
and I've been staying at Casa Libre.
And it's just the best place ever.
And everything here seems like paradise,
when you come from Seattle, until you bring deluge
with you.
So this poem is called "The World's Miserable Corners",
which this is not.
Big bang.
Pause.
Life.
Then, men.
Nickel and dime.
Toupee.
Heartbreak?
You bet.
And man of war with his warships.
Worked to death camps.
Prefab.
Fabu.
And the coffin is free, or cheap.
I say, we've got it made.