“baby on the dotted line” by Troy Baillargeon

onethousandfortyfourhundredths
                      is got me wannawork is
          wannalearn
                      is gonenanners praying to UNKLE SAM for
tenmore bucks, or a pack of smokes

  (some THING to do tonite where
 else is here)

                                          cigarettes love it when you kiss them
                                        on the sweet spot
                                        reining in one reincarnated
                                        purpose. one
small step for blacklung, one
giant leap for fire.
                                                                                PROMETHEUS, you great bastard!
                                                            look at what you have done.