2020 was a year that no eight-ball saw coming. I want to be able to remember the highlights of our collective societies through a fun-to-recite poem that sings like a nursery rhyme. This is it. The apocalyptic year summed in 658 words.
poem
and so we begin
the first step is the insides of your skull
painted to the colors of the lead on your test paper
because then your previously in-class-absorbed knowledge
will contrast from that of this white absurdity against your desk
Allison's Archives 