how about a word for
the way one goes approximates a weather Sys, the whether of a thissa way or that.
how about a word for: the thissa-winds & thatta-winds, compounded & compressed to mean a this-way-that, a whirling Djinn.
Russian emulation from afar by reports of: Sir Karamyin's wanderjahr
twinning streams of Gospels & the Gothic on a young Fyodor's ears
the Exalté style, plus a torso's wheezy resonance; in 2:1 aspect
aghast i am, of wing-lack, and won't look down for fear of feeling arbiträat
one thought & nother w/ so little of one's abs in it—naada spent to crunch it—to subordinate a clause, so it's a this and that and that.
illness has beset me with these quota-filling wordsprays, a waning of my knowledge-base in day-trade.
overthink, they paid me for a year's worth of overthink i aphorized in stickers on the subway.
going deep within, i feel my innards, i'm attending to my liver-coating nerve cells.
going deep within, i had my fun with inner sense.
in this very sentence, i abstaineth from the existential verbiage, to be.
i mention it, not vention it.
watch again, i mention it: my freedom-write, a PBS docu-history, 8PM.
a writer selfing forth into mindworms, infesting it.
porous is the page, and it's teeming with me!
a full score, with staff for strings, impressive
an inter-zonal parly, tiz a faar bit of rhetoric
an autograph at auction's end, an Emption's witty mention
would actually like a game of being rich for a year. rich amoral Me: a hill station Raaja with a treasure horde to splurge among Israeli kids tripping down in Goa, gimme HIPPIE CHICKS.
HIPPIE CHICKS WHO DEFTLY TAKE MY VIRGIN-NESS AT TWENTY-SIX.
asset classes, asset classes, pretty little asset classes;
comme il faut these peppy little asset classes.
inna witha, inna witha: Norway, witha deity
Growth of the Soil as a Santa Claus origin story
Hiawatha, why’d i open poem with you, in Iowa?
inna witha, inna witha stymied me
a latin cancer, cryptid, or a word for a crossword?
a dollar bill cigar, and a bidder on a rhizome?
from meagre These, pls weave a Twilight Zone.
writing prompt, writing prompt: no one hears u scream.
my response: it isn't just a dream?
writing prompt, writing prompt: what if u r dead?
my response: hun come back to bed.