Poem 28 has been a thorn in my side. The concept is something I know little about, and I don’t want to provoke my audience into an all out assault on each other’s sensibilities. So when in doubt, Haiku. To my lifelong friend Brian S., even Rumplestiltskin can’t weave this straw into gold. It just pricks my fahkin fingahs, and hurts wicked bad.
“Universal Basic Income in the U.S.”
Some folks have nothing.
A few folks have everything.
Let’s divvy it up.