My current trend in writing is to treat it like bits of code. Debugging as time goes on (fixing spelling/grammarish issues).

Most of these poems will rest the way they are written, but given time and interest many will see a patches or 2 before it is over.

9.28.2005

do

the forest of green monkeys making mince-meat pies
and I a school boy
tell you to sit wait and come here
my honesty may be all that is there
and let me tell you
there ain’t much left
maybe you could get a spatula
and scrape my insides
like I was a pipe
a womb
a bowl of jello
and find inside that mess
a single cell that is me
you know I am the same all around
an image from one side
in two dimensions
view me as a star as old as now
make me a cake as fast as you can

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