Fold-over poem
this was the fold-over poem from this past wednesday’s RPM. We decided to do something new, and each only write three words, though some people wrote a little more
~~~
Hammer me like that. Then do
business wit the goldminer. Write me an
epitaph for love and a massacre
to erase it
like a chalkboard
radiating hamburger grease
falling outta nostrils
getting caught in a mustache
covered in old crusty food
we used to need food to survive
still do moron
except we slowly realize we all share the stomach
we share intestines, digest my glove compartment
eat areas i hid my registration along with who i was
like i am vehicle
3 years ago • Notes