Poems and poetry as experiential art experiments, created by a dedicated core, sparking consciousness river, word slurry. A harvest of poems and creative thought from a creative collective cadre.
Monday, May 27, 2013
OOZE
Oh, not to be sparked except in the
Os in ooze, as in double-o ooze.
Zero, nothing, like I said, I find nada
Except word itself speaking its own.
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