Crunked

Poetry. "CRUNKED was not written. Not even close, not even for a second. CRUNKED was ripped from the very darkest, most sinister portion of my brain. Written over the course of seventy-two hours, CRUNKED is the full realization of who and what I had become at that point in time. I started putting the words down after a sixty-six hour high, words that spilled out like a stuck pig or a slashed femoral artery. When I came up for air after sleeping twenty-four hours, I read the thing, typed it up and put it in a box. This bitch should never see light, or so I thought. It is something so raw and so personal I didn't want to publish it. I still don't, but some spark tells me I should. CRUNKED is a nothing more than a narrative. It's neither cautionary nor celebratory, it just exists as a document of experience"—Jack Henry, April 2011.