The first more or less complete poem:
and scatter the words like
yarrow sticks or entrails
there are no secrets:
pluck the old man hairs
from your ears.
Get up.
My
Intended --
--if you feel
still tree-tops of later
on the white man of the joints.
like a patient--
if you are to understand the heart,
You better understand the
chest, especially if they are
Lying.
why not
Death,
especially swimming, tightness in white blood cells
Tardive Dyskinesia (musical, or at least rhythmic), are
themselves dissociated
What is no known treatment for you know how you
dress like one
Patients with a great forest
where the spirit gets
what you tonight.
Go out to refill
6-week clinical studies of a priest
walked up the ingredients.
Serious side effects may
increase suicidal thoughts or faintness.
He answered, I shall perish. Read more of.
Read the mouth, (and
Went into her knees and itching to rest.
Go out of you. Live.
giving the whole world.
After a history of
suicide.
After a sign with ABILIFY
DISCMELT®.
After Depression and then the large apple tree
containing the stumps, husband!
After the small sign containing the
nature of therapy.
After it over his dear wife
and his return.
Because it, and because each. Or if
you can.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
No idea what to call it. In the chapbook format I've designed, this takes up 3 pages. Which means 21 to go. And now it's time to do other things. This is harder than I thought. But interesting.
Anyway, I took the eGnoetry text from the Abilify page and "The Girl Without Hands" and added a few lines of my own (in bold) and spliced in a favorite line from a Mission of Burma song ("Mica," from Vs.).
Of course, one reason why this is taking so long is because I'm taking the time to comment on the process and write the HTML into the poem so I can represent it faithfully here. But the rules of the game clearly state that 24 pages must be completed within 24 hours regardless of any obstacles, self-imposed or otherwise. We'll see.
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