|
Dalia |
"Ok, here is the plan. I am going to seed a poem, and you will each add 3 lines, rearranging the whole thing as you wish. You should all do it, all seven of you, and then it will be full grown, and we can title it, depending on what it's about. Post each expansion as a new post, and feel free to post other stuff in the meantime--this doesn't have to monopolize the blog. Here it goes..."
The lead-beast traipses through the marsh and would
magnetize its steel throated tunnel of a mind
to screaming lakes of necessary vacuum
So I follow my feet and they still lead
my mind to another place and time.
Wood is made of mud.
Labels: Dalia
ARCHIVES
July 2007 August 2007 September 2007 October 2007 November 2007 December 2007 January 2008 February 2008 March 2008 April 2008 May 2008 June 2008 July 2008 August 2008 September 2008 October 2008 November 2008 December 2008 January 2009 February 2009 March 2009 April 2009
July 2007 August 2007 September 2007 October 2007 November 2007 December 2007 January 2008 February 2008 March 2008 April 2008 May 2008 June 2008 July 2008 August 2008 September 2008 October 2008 November 2008 December 2008 January 2009 February 2009 March 2009 April 2009
AUTHORS
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
||