Woe is me, obviously.
Eventually, you find the frozen plums in the icebox.
Who in their right mind would acquire 2 overhead projectors, anyway?
What hierarchy / suggests / your impending / fruitions?
because all people everywhere / know that knowing causes / the greatest sorrow
It’s just a matter / of how many layers / of “me” you release
what good / is the awe / of stars / if we see / only that / we are / worlds apart?
This writing is less the craft heavy and prosody poised work that keeps process hidden behind closed doors of the poet’s writing studio and their intellectual hesitance, and more the freestyle, live over home-made beats push for moments of flow.
I have this project or idea, it’s where I take an overhead projector to various places and write out poems, essays, flash fiction and other writing.
At one point I’m just focused on the other thing—Baduizm is blowing me away in these first songs—On and On is eternally (you realize) catching—but when I come back in these short interaction with writing, I see little things that can get lost in the big-picture.