The wide sweep of planets that beguile me
you try not looking despite your curiosity
the more you wait / the more you drown in time // so just smile
Ouch / oo / eh / Oww
This writing is less the craft heavy and prosody poised work that keeps process hidden behind closed doors of the poet’s writing studio and their intellectual hesitance, and more the freestyle, live over home-made beats push for moments of flow.
It was high time / I got out of there
For this group of Overhead Projector Poem-ing poems I decided I would take my fancy projector to the Wick Poetry Center.
ink that manifested that poem is a stain on an old cotton shirt
Biggie rhyming hippopotamus with preposterous did me in. That was it. I was like, Okay, maybe there is more to sonics than just sonnets and nursery rhymes. Exceptional things happen here.
I start to feel that I am not a part of a line of action, a progression of disruptive movement causing a disturbance in air particles which domino all the way to their disruption of my ears but that somewhere in the middle ground…
Ich bin kommisch