By: Derek Spencer
Super experimental free-verse poetry written while listening to bona fide:
crying whines dripping wine for babies to drink,
birthed from nipps for strife, I’m straight, thag strain
dirt drowns the muses where they stand, and I think that we are at the body’s limits
who are want do want what?
DeTuned for yards of waste and temples of livejam
believe eve il be for be eve
atom of piece, peace of pie minced meet you for Change
who are want do want who want what!
There is a large group of men near me and I’m nost without nou and they’re chanting names of green things
spla ta to tooo no nuwha ewha sympathy symphony
hot-da-hat-da-hot da hot da hawt
No more. No more. No more. No more. No more. No more. No more. No more. No more. No more. No more. No more. No more. No more ?> No more. ,nIw More No More .no;more No more nOwmore No morei Nomore NpopowmirenomorenOnoOnomore No moreNomreNO no n.nO NO, nmore No.moeer No.
Final Verdict: I’m pretty happy with my poetry, but I forget what the music was like. I remember I liked one of the riffs and didn’t like the part where he was speaking.