Abstract
Consider the world: Words with senses, read it like you're there, only you're not. FOMO in a syllable count. Sharp, Screech, Rainbow, Gassy, Bitter. Words are like, well, like words, but also like a dull shiver when someone might be talking about you. On the subject of the concrete, you have to think the hear and now, no ephemeral shivering necessary. Staple, Tree, Bug. We are all concrete, yes, even you, no matter how intransient you feel or how much water you drink. And as is true of all things, the action is the culminating event. Raise, Erase, Pace.
A Poem about the World (with rhymes and some sense of Rhythm) by Leonard Walker
The message was found on a staple
The staple affixed to the tree, might be maple.
Gadzooks: sounds a screeching observer
What fools! they said, reaching in fervor.
Over the hills and beyond the rainbow,
Such wonderful thrills, the sharp and the painful.
Let me erase the previous notion.
I am at bay, set the pace,
allow for devotion.
Raise me from infancy, know me in constancy
Constantly bitter, worn down in erosion.
What reeked gassy, now free
crassly, this bug, empty, a fee,
sharpen this lug, flee to the
greener pastures, a hug, under the rug,
this rhyme has gotten away from the writer
and the world has lost its rhythm on the axis
and soon calamity will be a forethought and
we are all going down oh god we are all going
down and ive made my piece with proofreading
and conducted the seven sacraments and ill just wait for
the end
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