Today’s poem is a continuation on the Pablo Escobar stuff. I have always adored magical realism, and perhaps it’s no coincidence that my poems about a Columbian drug lord are venturing into that territory. True stories that would never pass muster as fiction are always a source of inspiration. Real life is just so terribly bizarre, and poetry helps me understand it better. I hope you enjoy, and that you can consider supporting me as I keep writing. The money goes to Tupelo, but giving to the press in my honor is all about supporting something that is honestly incredibly difficult. Thanks so much. Not sure if Pablo’s returning tomorrow, but we’ll see.