I woke up splattered all over the front page
of the Washington Post today
The paparazzi posting pictures
Of the shoes I wore the night before
I woke up the story had changed
The front page is the last page
The headlines are blank
The date is right
But the comics are no joke
My blood is dripping
From the crease in the page
Splattered all over your ankles
I washed out between the pages
Of somebody's post today
Bob Jenkens
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