Clickbait Poem
BFF fighter pilots
look down on some riots,
muscle-filled cockpits,
high-temp switches.
CO is on ephedrine,
coddling new stand-ins,
legitimate elections.
No hot water’s left;
the steam’s made of sweat.
After an ammunition
dump in Chimian,
Icy Hot is rubbed in.
I don’t wanna go home,
sniveling…