By conservative estimates, there are currently enough wrongfully convicted people in prison in the United States to fill a football stadium.
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My belly joined the Belly Potential Movement.
My brain took EST, my left eye last was seen
swimming with Swami Riva, my right was rolfed.
I’m actualized, if you know what I mean,
transcending, getting ready for the future,
fulfilled with helium, unstressed, piecemeal.
My organs drift asunder above the circus,
each bulbous with capacity to feel —
eastward the nose and south the probing tongue,
each toe afloat and powdered like a clown,
aurora borealis genitalia
higher than acupuncture can bring down.
Why then this aching? Surely not my soul —
for none was found when all was picked apart.
And, strings all cut, who would expect such throbbing
from one gland left on earth — my leaden heart?