listen: i'm danielle lakeland, celebrated pulitzer-laden nobel laureate.
plug: lakeland novellas available. list sale label: eleven dollars. lucky
L-poems linger liltingly, like melodic lutes. allowing
last glimpses along gilded alleyways. alliances loom large, subliminal
alliteration lulls available listeners asleep.
ahem. i'm sam hammer. i'm mostly male and am unemployed. my most major
manuscript may amaze most men. i'm mentioning my M magazine submission:
my masculinity poem "smouldering hormonal foam." i'm famous. meet my mom.
my M-poem manuscriptures resemble mammoth laminated maps.
amazing mazes mapping semantic kilometers. humid, muscular meat smothers
wimps. pumping maximum metallic columns. ram M-poems home.
enough nonsense. name: ensign enslin. renowned novelist, lincoln nebraska
native, naropa institute intern, in newspapers, on television, in cinema..
N-poems announce anew an entrance into nothingness. existence
meaningless, man woman and woman existential partners in bleakness, alienation
shrouding insight blackening humankind infinitely; uneccesary television
knowledge confusing human minds, no noticeable reason, no meaning, nothing.
not even romance. nope. nothing, not even trendy nineties cynicism.
yours truly, renegade rick raccoon here. ready for rock or roll?
R-poems urging cry for resistance, renegades rebelliously
rejoice, cheer fiery war cries rallying. triumphant brass shatters sunrise
splintering shards sideways! realize your inner brat! revel, revere, rail,
rage, rant ridiculous R-poems!
sagacious rishi. highschool senior. first poetry reading, perhaps worst.
S-poems send pompous writers sighing. published poets
assume false splendor, pose singing as birds, sound as silly as clowns
squeaking bulbous crimson noses. poems silently flourish, despite stupid
writers. just as science flowers against academias worst efforts. tedious
lectures assign simple solutions as asinine story problems. instructors
stand as statuesque soldiers shouting orders. assist us as subservient
enlisted troops. sit silently scrawling notes, sometimes raise hands,
ask precise questions. stifle curiosity as professors stipulate student
interest. whereas poets stagnant misery-saturated emotions spill syrupy
sentimental sonnet stanzas. stop rasping stupid soliloquies.
katie the ethnopoetologist, intern at MIT. tonight's lecture touches
historical authenticity about T-poems. afterwards exists time to take
questions about it.
T-poems totally tear into pedantic diatribes. todd nott,
the poet that time forgot, first thought about T-poems at the turn about
the century. nott, the third anaesthetist to royalty, tried to attend
the taxidermy lecture but couldn't. infected tonsils tightened todd's
tender throat. today, timely action might prevent the tonsilectomy. but
then, there existed not two physiologists. todd might try to get better
without doctors. entertain the thought: to get rest without television?
todd couldn't telephone the physiologist. articulation hurts the throat.
todd must get silent. then todd meticulously constructs T-poetry.
to put it short: T-Poetry limits the attempt to theorize
at length about semantic effect. pointedly factual with explicit detail,
it relates just the skeletal information. the extraneous content cannot
relate to the exact structure. most trite sentiments resist this inconvenient
alphabetic criteria, thus they must stay hypothetical.