Current poems in progress...

oblong pairings
----Symon, -The Deer Park, Paris

----Symon
sleek driver torture
----Symon
bendable pose-pots
----Symon, -The Deer Park, Paris
lendable hands for
----Symon
glassing a lung-pop
----Symon
or blowing a bub-bub
----Symon

----Symon
in tub tank
----Symon
fish fat a
----Symon
globe-bot
----Symon
degut a trimspot
----Symon

----Symon
deworm it on a dollar
----Symon
in split-ends flat
----Symon
or your month's end
----Symon
back, again
----Symon
front,forward
---Anonymous

a warm welcome back symon :D i'm creatively excited by your presence! perhaps i'll join you soon in words.

-t
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t, thank god! our community of souls has not faded.
-Symon
-------
hey you!! *kisses*

i've been sobered by society but shall endeavor a personal literary Renaissance.

-t
-------
and shall I join you?
W.
-------
Yes, please do!

-t

with a provocative shock of hair
----Symon
i convince you that i truly care
----Symon
but then do something awful
----Symon
-Peter Cetera
----Symon
that scares me for life
---Anonymous
to wear a Mozart wig with a frightful puff
---Anonymous
would be such a delight
---Anonymous
but scarcely enough
---Anonymous
To show you that I care
---Anonymous

sounds like the general flow of past times...

Radio conquest
---everywordmeansfuck

Radio conquest.
The long tongue and sole of animal energy.
A plastic lie told to amuse their disfigured children.
Airwaves saturated with oily voices.
The misery of the commonplace nestled secretly in the bottom of an ocean of headphoned zombies
Rigorous electronics to bring them denials.
A non-stop goldfish frenzy upon the pirhanas fed mainline voltage til the transformers blow.

-------
..happily eating popcorn to the movie your words have so generously painted for my starving mind...

Can a fish
---Anonymous
tuna guitar
---Anonymous

and then gut the poor fish
so we may feast
for tomorrow
well, who knows about tomorrow anyway
so play me a tune on your fishy gitar
and I'll sing with the voice of the ocean
in the morning
when the sun is so rude
to still drunken and hung over souls
we'll talk about tomorrow
while we use our eyes sparingly
secretly hoping we were not too much a fool
in the dark
by fire and moon light..
do not disturb this hangover
for it might just be
that this is as good as it will ever get
before the rest comes crashing down
and we really do have to use tuna guts for guitar strings.
.
W.

The ooze
---Anonymous
Emerges from the talking heads
---Anonymous
Filling our brains
---Anonymous
with new things to dread
---Anonymous
change the channel
---Anonymous
hide under the bed
---Anonymous

Praying mantis
---Anonymous
Fraying pant
---Aiden cerf, Dade city
Sits a man graying
---Anonymous
Green is he
---mdg
Fly now he can't
---Anonymous

The joy of dogs
---everywordmeanslove
sniff and hump
---Anonymous
Piss and run
---Aiden Cerf, Dade city
The joy of babes
---Anonymous
Gift of life
---Anonymous
The next Generation
---Anonymous

One joy leads the other, one joy obeys. The fight between joys becomes commerce. All joys indoctrinated, they become non- competitive In the mean scalpel of time joy suffers ontological demise. Joy dies and gives birth to dog.
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that's fucking deep, man.