Wikipedia Poem, No. 948
i’m the only one who tells me when the poem calls
that poem the pancake color of my charged-up
fingernails that were no rhyme scheme
your head was a poem called lookiat
charging burn of my fingers
that was the intellectual me where
i am i am seeing the poem doesn’t have
to cope with heroes
you did it and you saw it
another wasted intellectualism of fuck it
they would have curved no metaphor
for the poem called your life and it gets tasty
that poetic squid head of quotes rising
above the horizon i finger the radio
or you don’t have to cope
with his going out for non-renewable resources
pull back the color of my heroes
didn’t you decide on an electrical power source
you don’t open into it the poem calls lookimy
heroes ;; another outlet for deicide kettle’s on
you saw it acquire some branded intellectual shock
we look like sui generis bedrock gardens
we look at sui generis bedrock gardens
fingers plasma!! it doesn’t have a squid head
or you look back at the black outlet weeping
like a weapon the storm hammer club her human body
it has a god given right to the poetics
of a stock car violin
intelligence betraying stone
cut from etna i was called a poem
look for an outlet in hopes i would
char char char