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Preparing Eights

(full resolution on Imgur)

All waiting to be made

Somebody once made up the rules of the game All simple and clear! Like thousand others before He could have chosen many other ways But once the rules were agreed upon Then nobody had any choice about What their consequences were going to be Over a century of screaming smoke While we gave names to all the wonderful things That spin and spout out left and right For us to notice and pull out with their roots To sometimes even write entire books about them So that these hard things of questionable existence Became just as real in our lives As are elephants and clouds and bullets That often pain us so Dream what other things would have come From some almost insignificantly Slightly different set of rules.

#poetry

Concreate

Before the tunnel there was this graffiti “Wack your bike” Which I thought was pretty funny But then it really only said “Walk your bike” And it was an actual sign Painted by some official guy Working for the City that day And meanwhile, here I am impressed That was like, you know, “rebellious”, Going against the traffic Everyone making their own way.

#poetry

Liberty of form

The purpose of the poetic meter Which I don’t actually really know Is that occasionally it steers you to Choose something else than What you would have written Without thinking or blinking

Building each line you get to choose From many different possible ways How you wish to proceed from there While the poetic meter protects you from The dictatorship of your automatic wants Not unlike all those slowly accumulated rules Of society.

#poetry

Without I’s

See, look, watch; All three words mean the same thing And yet somehow so very different So please tell me: What are the two words that come Before and after this little list? (Hint: both answers are the same.)

#poetry

Mymories