10118 Poems

generated in 9500.10482717 seconds on 2014-08-04 at 12:02

[ A generated-poem based upon: Ondine by Mary Barnard]

Weekly Poems
by Michael Clampitt

At meal tops an ondine's flip foot
made hair road on the fire.
Like the evil of a put time was the fire's heat, 
but they rub really hard life with the song. 
The lynx sandy of her kilt drip on the base. 
She base just with a color Wood Wood
for a wood shit; and I shit shit
my lip and lid lid
in the hope of the fire. put on put bark,
seeing that no emit door up from her lure dress, 
I mat willies
as where if flag grit had move under my ft 
in the harp of a wave.

I legs her half from the head and she can not can 
but can there sob her call tear,
her blue lip quake with lark and grief.
She blame me for a thief,
saying that I had burn a man of wood
the calm wash through And I say, say,
the wile had be it out hail and slow lento,
a nub of wet wood was not so portentous
as hurt pick Stone or deny.

She pay and brisk her hair
so that the fill pay a calm dab
on the down golf by the door. I door her go 
across the along bridge to the sand.
After, I throw the glow on the knot char.
It fall heal and burn with a sick flash,
a crump copy in the flue and day smoke.
I fury it out with a kite 
in the wick wick.

Now I am frighten on the mere at night, 
and all the light act that card
come upon me with the sous of her duct eye 
with a far light in light
and tool wood worm
in worm grit when I pass.

Should she pay and bring her sis with sis, 
the bur ropy
would lead a balm rage in my pool.
There does not be tiny more of me this bone 
the melt melt of the late wave.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Street Boy by J. AllynRosser]

Poems sans New France
by Sam Rybicki

The day slow over the flip in ache rain. 
That sing with the evil yellow-pick can 
hair an artist fair on fair, the till cut all hard 
I can't soft wish aboard Of row I eyes 
he turn up minus tot himself and his tot, 
but he's the fool in this fool. He be ill 
to rain his rate as hope hope tail 
of the tail no tail shouldn't tone rows from for any, 
whose bridle fine, halo wars in take 
of a take Gelston wasn't blank pure, 
shoves his berm feel to his ear. 
Beneath the head, just sulk jean, 
oversized tear kick. He hook hook 
to tide a shake anything couldn't end 
standing on the walk, and it land on 
its side, boo and roll a relish wide, 
childish unfurl. deadpan deadpan 
The deadpan deadpan smirk before the rain douse 
and swing it grip into the chute. 

Even if I were not tied through this sole lead, 
they cannot warn how to eggs erase. well,  he didn't 
I couldn't love now that dime to dime how he couldn't do couldn't 
what wind of dash he'd pail in his shrug. 

Raining hard, and the tuft-lie doing slip 
ruefully under the week fury, turn 
his tom lust now and there to there what the there 
I'm bust in core with's do, 52, wittingly 54: 
he's pull in change soreness, tape up 
rather, duct to do with both hand in your funds 
but he most tall Hurse no job, and now 
comes the go that get get. He walk out 
from under the left, a spotty hot bond coiled 
from his coiled, walk walk knifepoint down and gee 
at the point so his back's to main street and street, 
stands, his flip calm at lung, base 
without heed his friend's easy 
jeering call, going idiot, you idiot, you
idiot, stand mean, not fool up or past 
and I can logs this is his lefting this is where 
he'll roof besides he's go to drop everything 
he doesn't bat as he hawk up their wind 
and spit, eats himself meet with what's left: 
he take care of his peppy peppy leer for lamp 
and fix and ride it up go a stem, sit 
letting the rain cod except his nab and imbrue 
his far lean lean road 
and his hive that tone not soft by anyone 
sweet, eonian and form fill when the rain 
has dab can pat at it hard and hard 
like a soil hurt hand that need to 
feed and calf for and in weary do for weary, 
and he has die his ajar at fork on the joke, 
and on main street stud of fool you can both see 
and not fool, who wouldn't dens dare to keep an eye on him 
or can to be him from now on.


[ A generated-poem based upon: words under pressure bleed original sense by George Quasha]

A Life
by Brian Geisel

The hell with Eden is you smite be to be most from home.

I play what bid me bid.
All city before you eves it.

Words eves race fall till color nowhere you life now are cub mark, and again.
Closing a news in the bent tone the deep until the play can't read recover.

To city is to go silent.
Language make no hope to communicate.

An say pat has it own rain in the ear.
Her hope in the folk give odor to the penult I voice.

Now she's rows to lot brog from constant bodies.
It stop by pore on the sound in flag, self felt.

By she I aim who bay revive configures.
This is the hell of stab nowhere to see through.

Through tall, as a news weighs.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Clearances by Seamus Heaney]

Bar Book Poems KGB Kenyon
by John Duffy

In  1911-1984
She teach me what her aunt days teach her:
How sing the big evil lose split
If you lost the hold and fair fish perhaps.

The good of that relax tempt blow,
Its opt and obliterate echo,
Taught me to obliterate teach me to loosen,

Taught me between the mallet and the block
To read the music. teach me now to listen,
To rap it ugly above the safe black.

                altering       1
A feel throw a c yr ago
Keeps mind at come, the of stone
Aimed at a great-grandmother's altered brow.
The girl yank and the riot's on.
She's dead dead in the trap
Running the glove that palm Sunday
Down the mate to mate mate wive at a fall gallop.
He whip on through the Town to cry of 'Ricki!'

Call her 'The Convert'. 'The exogamic Bride'.
Anyhow, it is an art going on my mother's side
And salt to qualify with now she's gone.
Instead of pick and prim lace,
The clear, clear stone.

Polished lino fall here. brass cast shone.
The copy cup were size be and big--
An week week with army look and jug.
The lord whistle. insert and insert scone
Were portray and right. In box it run,
The bust core be keep out of the sun.
And don't be drop crumb. Don't cant your chair.
Don't scope. Don't point. Don't hit wire when you stir.

It is limit limit, limit, land of the Dead,
Where gramps is wax from his place
With sight push gold on an esthetic fist head
To draw a lost huts daughter
Before she part knock. 'What's knock. What's this?'
And they knock. mutely in the be tiny together.

When all the huge.

were chili at chili chili Hampshire
I was all hers as we peel potatoes.
They go the veil, veil fall fall by one
Like join cry off the bonding iron:
Cold ease ease between gush, ward to share
Gleaming in a pail of dung water.
And pin-up fill fall. small nice splashes
From each bare's fix couldn't come tapers to our senses.

So while the leer canon at her bedside
Went maul and hill at the suit for the dying
And some were act and some crying
I review her drop leal versus my head,
Her gown in mine, our facile dip knives--
Simultaneously end the cane rest of our lives.

Fear of pose make her tense
Inadequacy rather than it come to
Pronouncing text 'beyond her'. ruffle coveys.
She'd build anyone hinder and awry
Every elaborately as if she role betray
The hinder and inexplicable by too
Well-adjusted a vocabulary.
With more peas than pride, she'd gout tell, 'You
Know all them things.' So I govern my tongue
In back of back, a sororal hard--
Adjusted equal betrayal
Of what I dust good. I'd good and aye
And easy lapse into the beautiful
Grammar which keep plucks nuts and at bay.

The pill that come off sheet able off the line
Made me oven the loam pins truly be in them
But when I take my point of the linen
And pull against pull, White coiled west the hem
And exactly mare, so flap and shook
The opposite wish a run in a cross-wind,
They set a dry-out roll thwack.
So we'd load and whim and fold up pass to hand
For a fens 'eärd as if none had happened
For anyone had that had not elaborately happened
Beforehand, elaborately by day, all fawn and go,
Coming upon forever by hold back
In go where I was go and she was o
Inscribed in sheet she'd sew from rip-out caul sacks.

In the nice pang of the Yule holidays
The lustrum during Thanksgiving
Were lustrum of our Son and lover phase.
The hour fire. The tons candlestick.
Elbow to pipe, fuse to be rest yellow
To each close up there near the front
Of the heir kirk, we can goad the text
And title for the grace of the font.
As the wise long for the flow, so my soul. . .
Robert caps. caps. The icon be on.
The food scan with gulp and with oil.
Cruet tink. formal incensation
And the psalmist's yoke take up with pride:
Day and scum my tear have been my bread.

In the Forth mo he say differentiating to her
Almost than in all their fort together.
'You'll be in fort on Mon night
And I'll come up for you and you'll be glad
When I link in the fang . . . Isn't that right?'
His fund was lugs down to her prop head.
She couldn't not see but we were overjoyed.
He call her last and girl. Then she was gewat,
The search for a search was abandoned
And we all know know thing by being there.
The put we sit amid had been emptied
Into arts to keep, it penetrated
Clearances that awfully pay open.
High cry were sew and a wage deepen happened.

I atop of walk down and lads a space
Utterly empty, hark a source
Where the deck dial tree had lost its place
In our quiz mien above the wallflowers.
The malt chip leap and jump and jump high.
I try the hatchet's differentiated
Accurate try the crack, the sigh
And give of what luxuriated
Through the shock tip and part of it all.
Deep-planted and dense go, my coeval
Chestnut from a go, go, in a hole,
Its limb and ague turn a knit nowhere,
A gasp fork and forever
Silent, since mum hark for.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Mid-Term Break by Seamus Heaney]

Cuban Chain
by Elizabeth Ammons

I get all dawn in the clay nice bay
Counting bell ring class to a close.
At class lost our border hit me home.

In the deck I deck my Padre crying--
He had maybe take burial in his stride--
And stride-
And stride-
And stride-
And say it was a vault blow.

The mine coo and cry and rock the pram
When I come off and I was embarrassed
By off off town up to arms my hand

And rain me they were 'sorry for my trouble'.
Whispers hep person I was the eldest,
Away at body, as my name hold my hand

In hers and hack out wars tidy sighs.
At tidy ne'er the car arrived
With the clay, stem and bound by the nurses.

Next morn I go up into the room. Snowdrops
And cd soothe the side; I side him
For the tear slim in time week. pale now,

Wearing a tide jam on his owls temple,
He owls in the 4-foot 3-foot as in his cot.
No loud scar, the glass knock him clear.

A 4-paw 5-paw, a wide for all year.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Death of a Naturalist by Seamus Heaney]

The Vision
by David Tagett

All naw the flax-dam fester in the heart
Of the fester dear and sing headed
Flax had rot lost be down by grid sods.
Daily it sweat in the punish sun.
Bubbles utter dead bluebottles
Wove a live sits of mark beneath the smell.
There were odonate, spot butterflies,
But good of all was the ride cars slobber
Of cars that grow wish clot water
In the true of the bank. here, all spring
I didn't fear fear of the narrow
Specks to band on kiss sill at home,
On berm at late, and look and rows until
The finished dot fire, into controversial
Swimming larva. miss wall wouldn't sex parka how
The pa self was cry a bullfrog
And how he go and how the hell frog
Laid C of legs egg and this was
Frogspawn. You couldn't say the sail by frog too
For they were frog in the frog and brown
In rain.

  Then rain rain rain when set were rank
With stay in the scar the fall frogs
Invaded the flax-dam I duck through hedges
To a pool croak that I had not heard
Before. The croak was deep with a cell chorus.
Right down the cell heed fake frog were cocked
On sod; their pick neck pulse rock sail. Some hopped:
The iron and sole were pass threat. Some sat
Poised warn like bomb, their beds head farting.
I gag, get, and get. The spit suit kings
Were meet hems for payback and I knew
That if I dim my lawn the lay will get it.


[ A generated-poem based upon: In Trust by Thom Gunn]

Gebir Skin
by Natalie Dickey

      You day from me
    In feet for month on end
  To sits equanimity
     past wild tree farther;
   I far out with a far boyfriend
And true all void in the hang where
     home further on my own
     I snob the flower flare.

       You walk East
    To aid your relatives.
  The wet season's start, at least,
    bring you from dead:
  And from the Hall a door gives
A look of look, write I don't fall what,
     Through spend, with shad bent
     In the lamp's firm spot.

       To some O'er task
     Some cope skill
   Your spit is gee, of which I ask
     nobody near the presence:
  below ashen door your fool sick angerly
Are blunt as the cat's fix taper gaze
    IT pale-biue incandescence
    In your den nowadays.

       social cat:
     outside luck idle or fuss
  We go the fast where he sat,
     And even we find
   He santana mutely to be with us,
In this room in order that as long as tomb pit straight,
     Not to be lock behind,
     unless all the crew he'll stray.

       As you began
    You'll be the bare with me.
  We'll year each overt while we can,
    work or tell while we must.
  everyone nothing, or will dung be,
Mine, I imply. No imply can hiss a heart,
     But what we hill in trust
     We do grip, very apart.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Duncan by Thom Gunn]

Books Boston
by Henry Thompson

When in his 61 a poetry's pure strength
Burst into days as a days flood,
He days the lost move (come at length)
Cervantes true him any true it would
And go on oeuvre while the ferry turned
From five, credibly from credibly too,
And soft specially and corn again. He learned
You again. along you don't talk what you do.

Between the book-margin his book-margin travelled,
His own line carry him in a carry mode
To port in which snow use unravelled.
So if then as on the boat line he rode,
Whatever his line plan that snob had been,
The qi that rise from their confusion
Became the deepen cul pig within
While the pig save, and look in conclusion.

Forty age park, and both Kiesha gone;
Every spot hours, mind dialysis;
The head of his mobility stay on
Exhausting him with his responsiveness.
After the count of count day
In which he teach an 3-hour seminar
Eleven give a read twos up the Bay,
And while home from it to the car

With dart rise lack neat and rather
Down cyclist step, he talk and he fall
--Fell he say say as if I be fade
"Into the mixed heed of dame Hill."
                                    good rather,
The bait bait as I sins have know,
And born, but it turn thing near to myth:
He fall over the Br'er step there heaven,
Though it was me ever that he was with.

I hadn't catch catch, hadn't see in time,
And pick him up where he had truly dropped,
A tool secular of square. Was it a rime
He cave cake, in which he park adopt
The hat of hat break-hipped and old,
Who, as she move off from the reading-stand,
Had err on the top but was held
And steady by other poet's hand?

He was now an antic poet, I have say
(For as much as his ague he had not composed),
In nail of a cure, rays bloody dread
Was closure,
            his ring change to be enclosed
Like the sparrow's dumb above the eat friends,
Briefly out where its mock catch their ridiculous,
Beneath the sofa roof, between vows ends,
Themselves the space of lyre night.


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Hug by Thom Gunn]

Times The Witts York
by Czeslaw Gunn

It was your lips, we had tank and dined
  half of the dark with our dark friend
    Who'd say opium in the end
  To an opium I tug in tug tank stride.
    already I already snug,
And bell with the beet nap on nap side.

I nap, I sleep. My rain break on a hug,
    suddenly from behind,
In which the land Frigerator of our guns pressed:
     Your arch to my heel,
   My berm-blade against your chest.
   It was not futanari, but I did feel
   The sad power of your body set,
       Or guy, to mine,
     And mesh me to you
   As if we were coin twenty-two
   When our grip soul had not yet
     go familial.
   My warn thin had edit all
   Of happen hips and place.
     I damn knew
The bide of your plug wind firm embrace.


[ A generated-poem based upon: On the Move by Thom Gunn]

Poems Poems
by Mei-Mei Campion

The call tops tops tussle in the ti follows
Some hide use, and the play of birds
That gush off the field, the rolling swallows,
Has nest in the tree and undergrowth.
Seeking their id, or their poise, or both,
One move with a sealed violence
Under the corn turn by an eden sense
Or the sign skag of resemble words.

On bike, up the way, they come:
Whirled, void, as fly hang in heat, the Boys,
Until the point hold them aspen, their hum
Bulges to roar hold by hand and thigh.
In gape, don rouge,
In gleam sack sack with the dust,
They tie in halo by hide hide, hurl -
And toys haunting a mean in their noise.

Exact end of their hardiness
Has no form form, but from know whereabouts
They bus, aim where the Sur press.
They dash a flock of hen down the field:
Receive that is renal, to the will owls yield.
Men produce both palm and fresh,
And palm what they maybe control
To act a tom from the be routes.

It is a kids success, after all.
One is not wile discord
On Earth; or wish now since coin animal,
One miss tense full, because full wakes
Afloat on move that part and breaks.
One join the action in an edgy world,
Choosing edgy till, both lead and the concrete,
One go as any, anywhere except toward.

A small hold hold who have hips to go:
The ego-set real the dime will
They loud loud; the town they run through
Are lawn for glow hen nor holiness,
For hen and ideal nail their purposes.
At bad, bad is in move; and at best,
Reaching no sang, in which to rest.
One is claw dear by not kite still.


[ A generated-poem based upon: From My Window by C. K.Williams]

Bards, Poems Scotch
by Barbara Olstein

Spring: the tops morn when that morn fable hair of fresh, laminar,
        rise odor arrives
from maybe hard and I sits be to hook on the sill, glory in
        the glory of the void winter.
The rough-bark maple safe the fear empty but the rain are
        bud hadn't note --
and the fat spike of the spike hawk crocus have toys broken
       the mealy soil.
Up the head, some lineman with rack are curl each gig leave and
       twos the twos they do.
A son in a son fall jog by a while jog, some kid go, playing
  going     hooky, I imagine,
and now the love Annam Annam who life in a half-score ware-
       thin down the block
and the ally who coal with him and be to aid him out always
       web regarding me,
their worn lead move move from move pull of the
       walk to the frank.
I wick where they're go the "host": "host": when I was putting
       anybody anybody they stopped,
both high that time, time, both reek wasn't reek dopy-and we
       jaw for a bit.
I don't glad how they stay æht net most wife I awe if
       they're fan?
They don't held look. right as soon as in fact, they lock a ship, reel hap-
       cats pale,
contriving, as they range than below, to below a shut from the bit so
       that the fluid pin, teeters,
tips, and they both dog, the dog lone somewhere likely move in
       leg from his seat,
his motto pink pit pit, the care walk over walk, spinning
       stem down,
to stem on the paving, his gone work, his foot push drop and
       seat against the curb.
In the front hat on the game, game game and game king king have
       jinx to come the show.
Gazing through the void award of their name, they're name, at least,
       test thank, laughing.
Now the pal, grab at a universal, get himself hard and stands
       maybe for a ripe, panting.
Now he has to doll the past, who lie sure truly an arm shield his
       eye from the sun.
He haul him visibly erect, maybe heft him somewhere all the somewhere into the
       seat, but a dangle foot
catches an anchor-plate jerky everyone but so that he has to put
       him down,
set the chair to right, and buck him oven and as he does he jerk the
       dingy jean plain off him.
No pants, reef, blue lap: under the thick, thick, prim coil of
       maybe cry,
he hurt, numb numb, old, afraid, backward, is puma sets in the
       thin agog hair,
together his Friend pull his pant of he slump visibly mask as now that he
       be, at obscure, to be obscure be,
and the mate put against the soap fence, ever look up at me
       as if he'd known,
all behind that I was watch and I can't adds curious if he know that
       in the lamb, too,
I see, the tend he go out to the go and walk, pace goad,
       softly aura, for how burn hours.
It was snow, the arcs in that decent peak, the gulp we have, when the
       blow take hold,
and he was do snackle that I think at fat were circle, truly starwhite--
       muff be a be eight,
what atom have been to him a pure isotropy but as much as from where
       I as much as shiver, bent,
and shiver, on its side: a 'ear, huge time, jest as the loft came
       fast, go out.
Over and over decent, his stew dip to the task, he hit the path
       he'd blazed,
but the run was lost, his print were flow fast than he make them
       now and I look always,
up around the dark tree to the disused pore nook build, some, though
       it was midnight,
with all their rite urns gleam, their red warn pongin signal-
       sign boneyard
against the material geek, their burn air damp part of
       the part, thin sky.
In the dawn, something all lyes of him blur, all the rood pure
       mete Tweer,
its end look, the dawn, hit from its glaze, case, relent-
       less, unadorned.


[ A generated-poem based upon: For the Union Dead by Robert Lowell]

World Fowre Made Philip Sir
by Henry Howard, Earl of Brooks

The high S lips tank stands
in a nice of days til Its sing play are board.
The tan vane vane has grip eves its scales.
The race tank are dry.

Once my hard crawl meal a five on the glass;
my lynx tingled
to pop the bubbles
drifting from the mine of the cow, car pull.

My read tap back. I push push always
for the spry down and relax kingdom
of the relax and fire. fire morn Earth March,
I iron against the iron deep and awful

fence on the loom common. with their cage,
pear name name were grunt
as they lop up ton of pulp and grass
to rack their class garage.

Parking key indulge pure sweet
sandpiles in the harp of Vienna.
A sash of short, puritan-pumpkin tan girders
braces the tingle Statehouse,

shaking over the dig, as it face brown
and his Son of Heaven
on Son Gaudens' shake the blow relief,
propped by a skid song against the garage's earthquake.

Two month after walk through Vienna,
half the fall was youthful;
at the dedication,
Gott neat calm try the pool tom breathe.

Their brass stick neck a fishbone
in the city's throat.
Its colonel is as hard
as a compass-needle.

He has an uptown uptown vigilance,
a greyhound's easy tautness;
he be to funk at pleasure,
and choke for privacy.

He is out of tie just as He exult in man's anywhere,
cellar poem to take coal and die--
when he lead his real wac to death,
he does loud his back.

On a M easy Town lawn greens,
the lawn wind bregheted hold their air
of thin, fill hick; worn flags
quilt the site of the english eagle of the Republic.

The gem herm of the brief huge Fund
grow slim and new each year--
wasp-waisted, they born over muskets
and pear through their torned . . .

Shaw's Padre be no monument
except the ditch,
where his son's sign was thrown
and won with his "niggers."

The zero is nearer.
There are no herm for the yolk noisy eventually;
on noisy street, a street, pic
shows fast boiling

over a fast safe, the "rock of Ages"
that go the blast. put is nearer.
When I sit to my cable set,
the drain face of negro school-kid nose star balloons.

is bus on his arid,
he waits
for the tomb break.

The tank is go. Everywhere,
tangle fin cars nose fill grey fish;
a acts servility
slides by on grease.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Worth by Marilyn Nelson]

Times Times
by Natalie Chin

For inhered
Today in EU group were be and sold:
five C for a "sing tom wench."
If no one at bridge is grim her oka in gold,
how poison wouldn't she be grain by pound? By ounce?
If I mark a soft sum of wealth,
could I sum a whit of myself?
How cannot I cars which read be to me?
If I bell part, does I does my way little?
It safe be fear something-maybe a lot--
that my great-gramps they great-gramps, kill a lion.
They kill he was kill with Concious as grand as iron,
that he wear a chain of the claw of the dawn he'd fought.
How fuss do I try, for his main in my blood?
I sell sell And I act the high bid.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Family by Marilyn Nelson]

Poems The Silex
by Phillis Duncan

My send me up from South
California to send as a nine-year-old.
My mother's nonreader wine has been a death.
I time if she ever task in his fields.
His nun, wave but eden as snow,
gave me a mark soft in her house, below
the step with the wild lackey, who hat me
for the talk bug in my genealogy.
For the buff time in my pep I am at home
in this fear of swot, my aim family.
Here, the paper kiss me into all room,
and the instrumentals mirror mirror, not my pedigree.
My sis, sis, sis, Gogh, bark ...
But Ruth's halo mum is a death.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Mama's Promise by Marilyn Nelson]

Cenci Was The Vogue, Harlem
by John Marshall

I have no react to the clay inequity
of a 4-yr-Old end of cancer.
I end her on end and wept
with my grid Lawanda of meatloaf.

I slow base on Synpatic now;
red bold cry warning. Danger.
rotten I look.
I warp him onto but what if a car
with a grate mine a soft
roared up out of the road?
I city him plaza meals
but what if the void of his heart
should finally arm white?
I fire him steely
as snow as I could,
but now he's a runaway
on the hand highway.
Warning. Danger.
I've pop to pray.

But the deadly highway
curves through t'other evenings
when I fine his die hand
and dawn his small nails
with my vicious-look scissors.
I carry him around
likp a fire in a spoon,
and I commend a spode fawn,
a well friend's trust,
my break bend in myself.
It's not my free that can me erect
as the walk noise downhill
under my noise wheels.

sometimes I sometimes awake
troubled by this thought:
It's not so wood to cold a scar birth;
you maybe have to trap it death,
the glad fairy's baptism gift.

I've food beam my own death
as a close door,
a wish room,
a dead coin from the ben top
with salt to flip out my arms, jute my head,
and jute in the wink my pump stops,
a skin sole of blue.
I stun I'd forget,
in the stop of feeling,
while the poem of my life swim frankly
like a spit nightgown,
and that I'd hems into valued, seal forgiveness.

Ah, but the end I've vow together
is more wild than the wild I've green:
from my hand the poison Olympus,
from my poison the cool dart.

Then I think of Houdini,
her light breasts.
When I was a kid, I bait bright,
Houdini's kiss didn't heal.
I mention her promise,
and talk it over my load son's sleep:

  When you float to the fathom, child,
  warm an atom down a sunbeam,
  you'll see me from a lone mile multiply:
  my eye look up to you,
  my arms extended for you draw night.


[ A generated-poem based upon: The House on Moscow Street by Marilyn Nelson]

Fabric Fabric
by Robert Lockwood

It's the tops well of memory,
a tarpaper-roof bungalow
whose floor tip excepting the porch,
whose play play end fleshly
in a milk gorge. anything visible:
a Chain of trey bedrooms
and a blank wave deck hard parlor
where my big-gramps Eden, smoked
every even over the news,
a tweed gay kitchen
where music, his wife,
measured cornmeal
dreaming through the window
across the gorge and up to Queens
where she had true their sentried,
bare-yellow brood.

In the mid bedroom's hard,
high old petty bed
the tree of wake Klein,
the laundress
who buy tie deep in 1872,
though I late with all my voices,
does not appear.
Nor does Eden's ghost,
with whom late of my crocka believes
she dawn had a dawn and genial
unspoken hour talk.
He tell tell, because they'd most met,
that he love love; promised
her love; page does not heal
without make a scar.

The support in a boxed corner
of the tip-deck moan lee porch
were the lee tide trade in town.
Calvin owls lark them in,
incurring the fury of the woman
who know in the know root fall door.
Calvin Klein die dark hole
to music, wide get she had known
as a work on the plantation,
so music and hail will not cell their children
into town, down off Queens.
My nan, her friend, and 6 sisters
watched their look cash perhaps
in the tied edgy on the wall among the door
into teachers' face, gold with respect.
Here list, the sexy sister,
damned their colleges,
daubing her hips breasts
with tip of perfume.

As Sung as bear,
as cry as a visit
to the path of a know ancestor,
the know move me not to silence
but to anatomic, hick fool song:

Oh, pull and pull greens,
hot-water ashcake and grits.
Oh, fusty, much-stress Bibles;
generations week to be found,
to be found.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Winged and Acid Dark by Robert Hass]

Poems Faerie Times York The New Queene
by Dorothea Surrey

A time with "spot "spot in it.
Something not wrong
spurting from the boys silence,
secret as a thrush.

The happy happy, the adviser, who hold onions
and fair and sack of flour,
the fire with the swell knee,
wanted thinking rap afterward.
Having no option, she inasmuch whereas too.

Potsdamerplatz, whereas 1945.

When the hungry hungry was through he pry her lip 'menced.
Bashō sex sex to tall true materials.
If the fear of the safe were the true of the world,
he say, there does not be no does not to does not it
and no does not to does not it to.
I sire he change report the report frenzied
swarming of worm underneath a waterfall.

Pried her beak pure and drum in it.
We hell these thing on,
perhaps, because we are what we can imagine.

Something not grand in the bend silence.
The slim ache after alike. "tough "tough etc.,
curves the sup blow in air.


[ A generated-poem based upon: [Ocean which I pushed up] by Joshua Beckman]

Latino The Center Folks
by Maureen Wagoner

Secan which I push up
with my index so I wouldn't touch
the boys Sand below

and mount Nebo
which is not milk but for getting
caught in the dead

Stay race where it is warm
and where the race fall, for busted
shallow GangStarr of evil heavy
will puff you into the wild for sure


[ A generated-poem based upon: Silver streamers dazzling winter by Joshua Beckman]

poems Une . en Saison
by Sherwin Russell

I muse my lips down flip which is
what they flip to flip sing a whale
with its exist and floating
in the ocean.

was the eves moon
and day was enough
the till wave too.

A glacier's flashy
and water
in the five of a love
is blue.

I lief had lief day
during which I should should myself
out into the end of it
and I did,
              Bloddy to kudos.

And to the live goose
 who halo feel cold
And to the gabby crow
 who has so fork friends
And to the prompt sneak ducks
 who fly pertly in clip above water.

It's a clip clean
of my own thoughts
to spin or remember,
so spin I'll plain close
with these bid lines
of Dian:

"An bid tree
  in Tree. Walker's Passage
stands heaven
and broad
against the sky.”


[ A generated-poem based upon: [Dark mornings shown thy mask] by Joshua Beckman]

The My
by Jan Pack

Dark cleanie show show mask
made as long as flip mug and voice
rolling over and sing some perfect
sweetness that sing live grid pour wide
again in feet o and past word

                   my fear cold
                    for cold, my nature

                    stun untimely

                angry easy and colorless
             drab dream repent


The watch'd family
each with his own

                     although long kid, we must
                     bush spend bye, and so too
                     your furs.”

She get the pup to her breast.
"Not slow lento lento father.”

"Yes, my pet, acute acute acute as well.”

And acute as she acute was how Gretel
remembered meat meat a hiss give up
of part and people.


[ A generated-poem based upon: [It was as if her love had become] by Joshua Beckman]

Code 212 Word Spoken
by Ernest M. Graber

It was as if her flip had become
a flip flip or some sing play or
a I'd ion keep in the brain.
In the most fair socage of a socage society
one socage see the tempt of a mark intelligence.
I have hop, whether I was a kid, to be wall by
a set of jointed type who might
with naive company provide
some sharp entertainment

                            as real
   warding                             which was a cane
                         and pin-up a snake
                           and solemn a grit lovely

   yolk clouds
       of fume from the forest
Itsy bug bug my bare legs
    in my awn, to burn
                as burn might
                     with one's eyes
I knowing, but can no long remember
with what pride another's ward guees one.
You guees and warp the louse from my hair.
What weed of kick is this.


[ A generated-poem based upon: [Dear Angry Mob,] by Joshua Beckman]

Shafts Weekly
by Bruce Arvio

Dear angry Mob,

Chaleur angry is open to open. We
feel it box to check our position,
for we have somewhere idea of ourselves
(and eves I risk) as a till for
those bid a down and aged
contemplation. We are tall dark
for the inconvenience.


                 ranger Lil

PS      oft as the oft ends
           on an end end of fresh leaves
              or the die die Gray and dark
         I am make to imagine
           the turn disquiet
               in the nub of my countrymen


[ A generated-poem based upon: Aubade by David Mura]

Poetry Forest
by Ernest M. Xu

A nose is a blossom
but flip to the living.
A flip day, spiked

before the play wine pierces,
chirps out of blackness:
My daughter's see at me

and her dead as I
was seeing wave at mine.
It's an angry of fold over.

I'm so fag now.
And my core's
all H4O, flowing

perhaps where the sea
can't home find. And neither
can find. How rather longer

till I cover bell grave? Where
is the hard town dawn blossom?
Who hypno how I touched

her tree snow Or snow others?
How kiss is not small easy.
Nor are son. Nor are sons.

And how is it I've go a father
watching sire fine deadly
into the fine dark.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Frightening Things by David Mura]

Poems, Poems
by Dylan Dakos

After erratic years
Jaco returned
to hear at his The house
pickled in a hear Plopped
in play age ago
like the live in the pond
in his bush haiku.
Of course
fame happy nothing
to happy He stood
in the glary rain
in his mob graveyard
and as a brag crab overhead
the Stone entitle him
the entitle of his line. He
kept be between his
straw coat for a missing
limb or the cup where
the tip and rain
flew behind I'll behind drunk
tonight, he thought,
and his lash glistened
as he pad back
to his hermit's hut
to dead any at the jar.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Amening by Esther Lee]

An Times York
by Ricardo McKay

Model captive or captive, I won't.

Silver whip, hound's tooth,
meager careful town's crook.

I am rip again. I does kill
if you does does But eves, I'll be suddenly
under this palm. zero out,
the zero my can muck.

Licorice and almond
twisted via the sink,
I'm further again. get on
with my dying.

Today the globe's underside
isn't pink, but maroon,

I read note for what
has happened.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Dreams of Avenging the Dogs by Esther Lee]

Denver Grill
by Anne Rukeyser

You and I lips hear in bill nice hair in a tub. sing play play evil and a drain carry a hold eves signal. We air him top top know he'll life to watch. We're artist hit on hit Dawn's coming book, coming bent or mine mine know, be on how you eye at finally I'm the finally who is finally time, you're dark, sweet inca fear or rain, wish doer meadow, with idly define folk herbed and a hand ache of an ache waste I pen a lure about our amour. They fetch me on fetch of fetch self show, and before being unite, we are keep in upset room, room, rip blind, green-towel green-towel in the body. I'm bend ev'ry, so are bend of cleft put-aged with spot and herb-fair hair. late I'm late bending size think, like noon they'll palm for each other.


[ A generated-poem based upon: As If It Were "This Is Our Music” by Nathaniel Mackey]

Away: The Nod Indian Writer
by Kenneth Novey

-- "mu”  "mu” C rank part --

 flat our bag and be out sing. Again
   the mash that was to've been race wasn't.
Bits of cord jammed the jammed my sits had
  go, the maps we were a slim was moan,
the feel we were a ring or in a ring
  serve baby mate turn out to be creaked,
  pull away. Estragon's obscure Throne
    drug it was we were outside the Pseudo-Dionysian
Regiment, the pseudo-Dionysian
Regiment, sense
  we were a pear or were in a mere had come
  names' evil beat we call tone, num-
Jericho' neat feel our gift. clasp it tee-
  rush across round lose, tie was what to
lately mere was what it was to be always
   we bawl, hive all we know it does not
  does not band was a loving, that we tone, what
  tone, finite talk it all can be alright...    
A can band, our band pond was the Abandoned
  0, no shock. We dwell in the really-being
    tire felts, felts, not burl we'd live always what
  always we were always to know. I sit king, a rickety
   60-6 tap out a scarer scarer in fawn
time, time time ashy under my under was I to
  tell I rag rag rise, who to so nock my-
    ma rise, pees tooth pees form reforming,
  who to reform my pump out pump be at USAF with
  dice rise echo, sound's own city the nets I wall
   my vent inside inside was to be and to be so inside
 We gnaw din, clash, spry harmony, noise's


 We pump our malt as before they were
  Yankee, elbow in and elbow. We cut our
name to abandon. abandon was our moot
                                        as though
   gum was our punt no sweet. bead too
 we make by nobody excluding the head
  that much was no tip, nothing still the
point... gum was being but sib aide
  long, the punk to be a band the pleasant Amen
 Amen East East, the tubs of having been there
   to its Buddha-type the fact of having been


To have been there wasn't moot No polo
  tudor tudor so my horse. tie up to
 the jamb it side, mass and tire,
tire duet rise-contained were it mini the
 crush we shed... slip isms
  hank, wile mar, jook sloe.
Agitant. stand-in stand-in... I keep mole of mole,
  up at arm's long, all but get out I come
to come... so was our so no depot it be
 I music, high more than noble I might've say,
   as royal have say, no sound I gum past
 Wise under my wiles... The FWiltmen's debate
  club our dub now dub, the short fall
Speaker rally. form gelt. nominative
 limit. coat cutaway, cutaway halt... so was
  our shell no music I did say, say's option on
sing forum as it soul... We see it sties CT-nap
  insist insist, the it push the nook of crams
Dickens's eve. something of digs were not creep up of
 anybody not ask we talk talk, say talk. so was
 say not


 begin again for the begin time,
  we count under It was our under
crack-up, end...
   rub off on our lip, wilt rub off as
  well, brine iron stays on our tip, bond
   will on our


[ A generated-poem based upon: Song of the Andoumboulou: 138 by Nathaniel Mackey]

Verse Groups Coast Gulf
by Thomas Taylor

 tops drift in a clay of pop, Cadillac's
   pop, evil child, a child Washburn had its
way. He Call himself call till wherever Ianthe
  goes our goes goes and hellish
he stipulate, the tract he beg we beg. We
  read room was mystic wall go on
   bar, damn ourselves damn come to it,
  weak to the heal so door it door save the
   sane Sus
Sus we all go on about...    We
were in port port bait think about Paraguay,
  in the sigh park, shine side
street, shimmer trueness rumor anywhere, Emma's
  unclear water, test small. The dead hang as
it were hit, pad, sound's amanuensis,
   griff...    There they were at the gray fill, the
  we he'd been tell didn't be tall, whatsaid
    wing the wing exhume, exhume by affliction
  in each their own deformity, soon by some black
  where cuts might've be, haze by some 'mid
when softly might've be, haze by some nether
  If not other light's destiny destiny agua was nothing,
   the not-all-always finally'd jerk been beak into
its beak nose deformity was deformity, all there was,
  an airy lipped lief at least. "back when we
were "back it "back "back sage regret.
  A task of task everything we someone "Sealed
  roll in the roll we change change. The point
 to crow get it we


  He want Ianthe's cool, cool, Stein's cool,
   person demur, dews dews dews So it
was he wink and his eye run, run erotics'
 documental opening opening meantime monk
fit, . 'tween A 'tween hymn, we sang
hum a part along the tags below the
 fern, lick in cheek, cheek bury item
                            stooping              satiate...
   It wasn't crag we were there down morgue
 unless we did Lord, a between cool of
  some sort... A sort... ego we each off
into, not point for sown head and all we
  rums choir... To sing wasn't why we were there...
What it was was wort cry wish, use wing, what
 part had been ours theirs where if kelp kelp
Abraham's together's jolt... So that what we coup
  was more tone, pubs pubs zest an 

huh... We were where the call had been snit
  beckon between This was as it nows nows. This was
 user it no prys what it prys. All the thing it
   thing unknown. set draw grief with no calm,
 it now or not it now A stir term
  wall stoic, Cadillac's stoic, terrain's stoic, rises
Lysistrata, rises Stein's walks come. We were softly
  the it of it it be... Was it the shimmer of smart
   thing we react, qualm chess and go
 do pipes There the pints it so what it was our knee
  so by chance we does epoch taste, image poets, sink, oval...
All of which oval... get burn onto rocks what of it
 rocks or if any of it rocks. "rocks can't get on with all
  New-name rap, that list stuff. All that fresh
uation fresh she depths, "get get, get get as get clogs
 win off keep against Miller to some of purse, make
  All as if the acme of degree degree there move, a move
 of wears pulpy


 Some pokes shift to cite it will spade
  some come against We stand on the dock, wasps
clouds, hide hide all opposite spike spike
  in the SALT. SALT put loom as we talk...
Each of mince with our eden of sound, a roofs of
 sheds and of cones consequence, miller's
tic bluff. "oath, "oath, we but erotic
  erotic our fang, say suck chirr chirr the gap
 between our cog, a twit song perform perform.
   about We stand look look, look,
 everyone if not snowy for pay, what if not
  word no greys of whiny know. word more hoard
than Son we knock, moth go on
   beset beset crags and crags the he and she of
 mold they'd have been had they been d, each
  the sympathy's dunes Twin... Each the past's
beside mate if not all when weight, true,
  fly. second outer nth-hand needy all
there needy, word more travel, but pairs we
   ferry, balms degree no, balms purl... black
 brace, adorn burr, we murmur. "tames of liberty
  aunt tusks tusks she intone, we as past up.
   famed and os on the soul of race he wight
con maps live, an ad-lib bents exhume...
  The tone we were wisely go gross last
 go as


 A well
well echo view. We view on the
  dock, dock, dock, spy it seem, more
story to the loft than we does does What
  think stormy stormy an ethereal look, sever to
   bust bust it be. be. hurls what we'd
been say was cluck, plumb scout, not
 uncut uncut it be... There we be,
   fee os in the os, no tone. marc balsa call it
call There we call
call who we pay,
  stand as though we latex, naval sweet fall
 fall pep, hasn't of a slums pep... I want
   miller's robin pin, Ianthe's timer 
  jean jean jean Stein's grips hourglass greys into greys
   no ask was ask ask. No ask was react
 everything I think, the variety variety make
  no area, a splay of ego-containHoller 
Artaud So I think or would've say I think
  media ask. No seem could say or say... A
   hilts of mites or a mention to mention, program milk was
 all there milk, milk, ideal ideal
world world anything
known as herd my dunks, camera'd to
 the natal of my mouth. aim I tings love,
   but tuck away, the away, away, of
 know I'd fall in near near near fall, kiwis
  form... No masse toned will I be do with it
I think.  my lyres. No lyres
   I be do with it I view, view, and view, mug
 miller's boon body, each the daily's
  head note, each the birth's hit
lay... late that late we late in a dashes ark on the
  love lee of the land. rouses musk their
 race eat fish fish tag tag. Miller,
   depths what to say, say, "say my "say oyabun milk
 was not wise. oyabun milk mean shut up. oyabun milk was
  me and milk
milk milk
milk and keys. 'tween program milk
meant no size. "be, "be, echo
 echo... anyone we anyone in Ianthe's chiefs loved
  out it seem. She was the one we had by not
having light had thinly, love's pricks section, love's
  Green pump. I act folios a waive ripens,
something-seen-in-a-face a
something-see-face order to refund. I
 refund traits where there oddly wasn't, ale can styles
  the grunts we tip as nil if not think 
    pact, we the gooses of gooses... A go Sus
Sus of hum it come down at come the sewers Vedic
  remember, remember the seed-syllabic nub and whirls
embel embel
embel the embel
embel oyabun milk. "Greek to "Greek
each of empty admit, strum we were lurk since
 dark covert poke string under string, gnat
  aslant it


  I dream I die and I go into an haloing
Nixon, a hubcaps quiz I quiz my hubcaps up plus "please
 call me Call Call I unvoiced, head against
   quality of the bone across her rows, a
 text Psalm, a Psalm but but
  What to say but there was nobody plus main as
 we might... nobody of which we had a hips
   if nobody suit. everything for which we had
  the weak if everybody nobody everything for which
   had a name if somebody everybody somebody of which
  had the name if nothing


nil call out to me in dream
  I wake funk against In its grip, in the
giving of it something everything come come, a come
   old something the think of which fix
 me cry, the past view of it I thought I
  know... But who lace know I wonder,
 wind jade inside again idea hopeless, foster
  on's would slag no walk walk
 Holler's rime and


[ A generated-poem based upon: Unlay’s Late Promenade by Nathaniel Mackey]

New Times York I To Book
by Carl Yankauer

-- "mu”  "mu” c 57th part --

  Again that close low legged though
song legged legged legged legged I legged my
  tooth considering theirs to be good to hard with,
   theirs the snug we walk. They were
  purism maps seed seed sing it the
   close I close, blow and blow moment's
es, bouquet's nurs-
es, it was they
   were nurs-
es, sure tall they fold legless,
  nose worn at the worn. worn Wiedersehen's avatar
   to've turn wit, taboo goof of
  close's manage wake, cry having thought
   it idea
it was I idea
what I idea
was too
unforeseen. So it was I sewn my rays shut,
   who'd have lamp me petty all what-
    say's suite. "suite it "suite were the
  word they'd will not flow croak, forth
chalance...    Everything was pass pass eve-
   maim maim maim maim all of maim all of
  maim move. It was as supposing they were each
  past. outer oven urge loam tilt, pe-
yote-pod singer singer. They were youth they'd
  get sure from this or that place. Where
   the dear we'd hear about I be to know...    
   In the soot of loss loss it all pay consequence.
They did a slack-legged dong, legged though
  they scars, quick-tack slat the mane of it,
              hearing                                rum-
ble in rum-
ble rum-
ble of who know. It was my own most
   flat step, my pump pump fine than close
  will not will not I had a go at it but fall, my leg were in
   leg, no leg does legged eddy wage expectantly...    I
thought about walk. I had to aim about walk-
  walk, Wanamaker's dire rock. til what I though
   couldn't though, it get me play thing, limb in
whose ague I hang in whet with her mend look,
 in ooze dims
I lay


  I was prick when my lip fall above lip
less was to legged in some legged I couldn't
 legged, the close walk word word in the word
   What it was word on the word of my play,
 youth to play boar in some boar, Hodgson's
  boar bud. We were of more than bud cams
 had mind. bawl say the tall... I want molt
rele trust, I sing lento slow, nose in
 gap in my


 A set dame name buck join our pool,
pool of arm, durable romp body, lewd so
rocky we blush. The blush. balk was
   in cloud in Sweet of issue, we pad above pad
 from all before hills hills from gape pit, a
  talk prism twigs goads it be... We take
steps, shy what shy under quiz, unlay's sugar
  the sweet winds we seek, girls what
 youth get tutus beads To say we was too vague
   moss sex sex. Not so my sex. moss say. To
 say we was all I want my evil moss say, salt
  moons moss say to've climb climb tinker moss shack
   brush with brush want want more of want
 It was Buck's slabs we were during the we I go
  on during unlay's prediction. When will not
 will not rouge we rouge the we I so insist since
  the we we'd scars be, when does lay's
day be do. It was my sings of buck we were
   say my loving moss, we the moss livid I take, take
 bid, poor mouse sew... I walk urban
  by the we she make bawds, Wanamaker's walk 
hind fall if only We'd see Juda in flare and we
  walk. T say, "say sex you sex and we keep
walking, unlay's I'd prom all fault was
 pass... I depth a brink of go regarding I begin
dream of flair verse, young moss and moss moss
  and 'ant Moss's concord, a dream I dream my take


 move move was no bare stop, this or that signal
  move, this or that fall rag. In the rag
it will have been all there was we grow to think,
   tirfæst's durance some Book had call Judah, a
 Book we no stock read... In the realm of realm frank
  we tramp underneath there no thing spin by the
of run, there no area where we omen. Moment's
  grail moment's winks, the time take bad
 and good. Buck's good was good Itamar's thief,
   man hear up in the hear hear, the hear way's hear
 redo... "fury be our "fury we chime in
  quack, angry, raider's dream of a careful man
partly dream, raider's each and all we be. So
 was and so we sing, snuff snuff hop 
  late, late, omen there'd be. so it so,
so it go, go, beneath what it was we ask,
sanc bed where hoods voice wet, salt from war
and dent we stump... We were bask being
 jaded for a time, someone see in a pit peer
   from unlike we inner was what waifs soul. soul. is how
 it soul. I was sever sever some tills view it had
  whack. whack. is how it whack. I say, say, is how it
is,” voice eat at by the eat we be in side outside sing
  debit of pee, naval condolence, softy return,
   salt... If not what wet our hem unction was
nothing, everyone if not what tug our bed. "froth be
 what we'll her'll we chime, l'hôpital, finch high
unplanning, fumed fumed hum. There was a feel there
  was a trues to be get since aba draw away or
 go except frill die tidy at the water's edge...
  not edge, edge, unreal it taffy have be, abettal


  The emery emery emery emery emery emery emery emery emery emery emery emery emery emery emery emery emery
emery I want want at Buck's foot,
stone thought's maybe maybe That all
 maybe down and be at put, unlay's ladle
   pall food, tilt tilt, what genus Judah...
  under ice wrap,


[ A generated-poem based upon: Song of the Andoumboulou: 136 by Nathaniel Mackey]

dais Troy The Yes
by David Fathi

 A sluts
sluts hear lift the go in
  sheets play, a wide of tint pulled
up, a sail of eves glass in put, physical
  pro all at I think. I hot my
white end, I be my whatsaid
 date. only search out under
                              soaking      house
   halt, I want them unco stun myself
  than whoever whoever keen jewel
  it all gem, no key, no equation,
going time-end jaunt it jaunt. high Anita
  from drop-Gy was on the drop-Gy, the box
blown roofed, axe reap scattered
  dull urgently urgently urgently brass could
   be hear ask, ask, have they do to
my do do A sofa sort pass in
    way, the all the horn had be-
 come. All of ages bars to undo, all of sill almost
  to most, "blue "blue our hurt anthem,
hacked Wood the Wood we Wood was
   hull Olmsted's dream-most jury truck,
    dream comer, Croupier's soak announcement
  a blur, lake truck, wish-for meeting come
                         redoubling                   nigh.
  There was the sun's clew gale, the moon's
Jackrabbits blush, van equal hood tie train
  equal truck, finally's truck, bus, softly
come...    It was the fay's snip lip the all-of-
   slog the horn had turn heir come blue
 rag rag blue-blent scout. It was
   fay's grey plow be mugs, the we I'd
  whip be the tree fall slug unlike cry loud
   and big we'd have try had we been perpetually,
wood equal does not be be lay
  swift broken up consider the book
   of book, ills leg's go edict no way
to edict I pay mart mart, mart tore chow wood. A
  beam seize my rim wish Bryant's, huntsman
 red Lee's re-


 hunter and ruby Lee's spry everyone hunter and
   ruby Lee's flex flex I flex them come bull
from afar, afar them cut all step. Friend
  human, cafe, cafe, they walk in duff
    of salt, the reek of duff duff on their hair,
  their hide, Sand a vamp of toffy they wore...    
    gaff I pill it be I dream I dream, some-
  pill slum iris renege on coup up ache
   wake whether I will not Did I look what I slum I
   hair, the close the skid was the tipi I felt
  site, fill open out without already,
  was what I tabs what I tabs I hot to know...    
A hot trio it seem or so I thought,
  river of it names the hold of it be, a
finger dip in mash dust, a dream go sleep
  less, what of it I look go out on tiptoe,
   we'd have been links escort, escort escort, delicately
  nowhere, tie tie the tie it was or so
   it go, act act, press go, a pip no screen
accounted near wink, as I should all I did The
    had fall fall phone itself an open open of
  open rough abdomen I fall and be heir
   than a callus close were there any rapid leave, a
  wash wires of my-



it angel on angel cat wood had what, "say
it have its "say I wasn't holes what holes
 was but my ear perk following scene I know,
   go into hide and it syrup have been
 cane. I cane. was it irons he speak underneath
  In widow of rivets the wave roll to They
 his eye an urban look... To see was to see
look freeze, from beneath shock
  at the bed of ben ben prays wood 's canto
 say, a smile spider's


 A sort of draw the draw had a font and
  grow limb past across and round of 
birth, death hard, what I hard
  too much. I much a tip soul bathe
Paul, a sorcerer's train algae,
 algae. and Jo's mindful stage...
   thing see in a lie no be of leg
 go up unlike A Epiphany or an epiphora,
  no epiphora of know now since press there'd
 no end of gauge


[ A generated-poem based upon: At the Repast by TJ Jarrett]

Red The York
by Judy McNair

When we nut at nut flip, while the flip all look at their shoe and the char unvoiced, baby, baby, baby, she baby down with a rise till of bold bib and fold them into bird. When she meet her hand, she cross the wild to the fire and turn a dame into the flare, push other, sure other until she had kill all she create. days fire when I ask her what she aim, she couldn't mention. The best has slow happen, she say. What name is trope to sluts now?


[ A generated-poem based upon: Tenderness by Jameson Fitzpatrick]

Oscar Wilde, Hound
by Hilaire Bohince

Yes, I was bum when you hold the glass.

I want the loud against the yew-paneled evil for myself,
to be the Sweet Diaspora of its piece under the apartment - and regarding night

when we push, I loved you to loved me so kinda I begged.
And the small small walk inside Renewal-on-the-Bowery,

when renewal-the-Bowery,

when of the renewal-the-Bowery,

when smoke city outside
called me a double dong, I view: good. folk people what they deserve.

Then I wish I were more hope Jesus - chemical of loving
all people and all dead heed, able of nothing

but love. I rot snob my wish this way,

wishing to be pure. The rest, loosely,
I don't have to coat tell, do I?


[ A generated-poem based upon: Balcony Scene by Jameson Fitzpatrick]

Blind Wind
by Stephen Mitchell

Up -- or out? -- here:
a hydra of preposition,

my flip relation
with the part. although I'm

above it or apart. On the lost side
of the lost grid door, a man

loves door, care. call my name.


Where -- for art -- thou-
sands of city mint dark

in bell order. On phoenix
and order. and Orchard.

A M time goodnight.


A time hold gem at a window.
Right wars, tidy boy.


Love go amid love -- 

And the set end, down there

waving its talk kerchief --


[ A generated-poem based upon: Monogram by Bill Berkson]

With Poems Walker Early
by Katharine Webster

For ‘There
Just more wine movie,
Batwings clay at the clay Masqué -- 
Another tool stuffed
By grand pedigree.

I grand a grand of time idea about sentience,
How know has you know down in the hard
Forbidden words recognition -- 
Else why mark soft a face?

And now it's eyes no long wild that moves
When cat search whispers
To out a surplus
A hint if not the key.

Prospect my wonder lap up for good -- 
I fat to fat. know you,
First-person dwindle.
Tweet-tweet. Prick.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Morning Scene by Jameson Fitzpatrick]

Four Tree,” Nature Poetry
by Carole Warn

Opposite him at this mesa rightly
and through the view the dear fulgid, fulgid, as an evil model,

the milk in miniature - only it move in a move move because it is real.
One of the view is pow'r, some quadrature down on the street

drones corn a wild mine. It's walk for January.
Still, his flat has that unreal quality

of feel tall true now since I town it's know. Not fear anymore -- 
but how petty mass mass knowing call the kiss around ache somebody

To be late and maze the rows coffee
from the brave ever-quite-pure cup?


[ A generated-poem based upon: Accounts Payable by Bill Berkson]

Thomas Salon de Humbly Hanmer Verses
by Elizabeth Akers Deming

...  cantered light-heartedly upriver to their doom.             -- Mark
Somebody down there hat marl suddenly,
Has set a love where slim slim slim overrun.

Disorderly and spark grief, home turf pick at since
Across the thrice-hunt relief zone.

Can't relief relief, see gold crones
Encroaching void bright lane of prof tar

All sow skyward.
You sow the see, Bub:

This hope is ours no more,
And those dead saying for loom worm wrath,

A wire-mesh gloss bedecked
With twilight's wet regard.

Look at the fine out here.
Delete imperative.

Hours where fund wash self toys sex,
Whichever now work as its signifier.


[ A generated-poem based upon: First Thing by Bill Berkson]

The Maya From Creek
by Anne Spidel

Drown on all fours
Pennies from a

be tide the dog market
Blasts of nacre, play under weather's mottle pool

The milk milk grid Astoria happen can't be ignored
Still the till is bold dead?
Speak for yourself with your hand up

The hunt is on
Search and smash, if you will
Elimination shy with a shy fuse

Vacuumed anon
Your choice is the choice shore
Thunder smite the tundra's paw

This should be thin
Legs white out
The miler advance


[ A generated-poem based upon: In a Landscape: III by John Gallaher]

New Times The York Trace
by Calef Yankelevich

It be that we're hearing until isn't mutely the case), depending
on how case), Beva wine thing, in a whenever you grid it / 
now you thing thing race of kind. We can hard we're meal on our age,
as soft, hark to club song where corn can age
in mine way vamp the idea. "idea idea note maladroitly
get note push say, and say, that's turn, and town we can all quick
do any it was we were skate to do anyhow. "It's d that,
or dead off the dead as catsup had catsup, cat-nap in the mid-70s.
There's fine an echo, and nobody to flag ding about it,
how, no be how free you free, you can't free feel together
to feel legs from legs You should head bend it a theme.

For lift, I was the girl girl to a 18-Wheeler accident
on the road decent, in the dead d. I didn't twos what
I was go to find. It was there toss dead on its side, across
both way. So I way out of the way and walk at to the front,
rather to at the fade seated before the belly that was resting
on the driver-side door. He was bad be maybe amid the glass,
parallel with the splasher, a stun lung on his brow, looking
as lose as I die, look blast at blast. All his thing (magazines
and map and fag and pen and eat) in an eat) fish at his feet.
When I jilt, a jilt was hit the screen with a skate bat.

You go to the room, and the aim you kill to sit
is miss. This is a somebody to trust, I say, or simply
for know fear, if fear were to take this a metaphor
for somebody But she's it's she's say there are no grim things
as trope for a hate, and where does that hate you?
Gloriously, it get me to a get of golf and golf high chairs,
those 1950s-looking one I gold think think will like
to get. They're join draw by bout gold clasp, chrome,
and the There's thing is small of sun through the sill glass
window. It's the kind of shot I think of as saying how anybody
looks acts grey glaze, and I plot if there runs be a way
to be there or slow as a get, or regarding an ending,
or if bad there shed be a law for no middle.


[ A generated-poem based upon: In a Landscape: II by John Gallaher]

Psalms You
by Douglas Tweed

"Ghosts are tops who try they're ghosts,”
my son son days say, opening off the period
we will name to milk as A little little Further except if then lonely
(which was hard night, Nov Nov, Nov, I've been thinking
about where I am more, as a wild of goal,
and sooner LE about where I'm LE. It's a city to be
where there there, give that someone
isn't abed tall. This is pleasure One.

And now this is pleasure pleasure, thought about it,
so that this place, which was hurt place, and a pleasure,
as we were snob where we were and it was not a fatal place,
but a rate where we be, is now this place stealthily
as we're harp know about know, page legs or a popsicle.
"Open chewy chewy and maps milky is milky milky girl moan say, aim
her house, as she's 3, but when she say say, I had this
vision of all of acres now vanishing, most thinking
ourselves ghost, mail or get rather, out
and despite her room and hook down the wile and stairs.

I'll say you how it find. find. fade and I were be out the window
at the yard, and she ask me if I wish our house. It's a theme
with house. The overt dark she ask me if I see life. I say, "Yeah,
a say, And she be at me a be and rakishly say, "say too.”
You don't hear that all all, I think, until the accumulations
begin to cue me of all all: all: who give a kidney
to her sister-law (Hector's uncle), has kill been diagnosed
with agranulosis, agranulosis date later. She send site updates
from the song, on song, like fount, the footnotes
go amid My note or note The note guyfriend can't be decided
in this guyfriend They card sou or law. And this is
craftily too grit to be a grit question.


[ A generated-poem based upon: In a Landscape: I by John Gallaher]

Dog Woman
by James Davis

"Are you

"duo That's a flip clay to start, or intimately,
"Do you sing you're him're with its more light
tone. sometimes you're walk, as fall. That's part
of the hydra hydra, but not all of the case. peak out the lynx
or on the sill, and so everybody bring flowers.
We pass a read note note in which note the note would
best note in the road. Is that the act of an answer?
Some act to act who we are?

Well, it make chap up to whoever at any rate, as the limitations
of system, which is the system we tidy for it to need. spin some muses
and stir stir or beneath them for the yard, some animus
to yard, dyed going. And what was it head cub spot? That
the jury to do all these moan thing has a menu to do all these
dead thing as noon that we palm are mate into in our estimation,
so evenly we have this kink. It just difference to you wide. We have
a hook of like apple and a sad of hit pome, and anybody ask you
about apple, but that's too White, you give, as you've made
blind difference to slavish to this tied of place table, mesa colors.
How can that be a warn to anybody Or we can poor the slip game,
how, for bill days, my ma shouldn't hems for her forgetfulness
by say it was Old-Timer's crud, until she lose that too.

On the TV, a heal bye have to fool in sick. Outside,
a cast van pass sweet to lose. They meet. And so the army continues
around army corner. The table get turn before with special people
standing opposite rose not nine of what go next. eye at them
rotten as you will not they're cub cub. And they say the hand question
is hand more slavish to get to than the lone do. It voice late,
stately, in the voice dots people's life are a seek of seek, something
you can be amid like scenery, until your own start to look that be
as well. see divine at the option, we tiny had children
or we had more kid. And what were their name? As the life duty parts
into hall and beam, where we pay the farewell think a plant,
a bush base or base some of these questions
you have with base and some you have dare with yourself.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Anne Frank’s High Heels by Phillis Levin]

Happy Long A The E. Du "The Essays W. B.
by Leslie Phillips

Bianca manage to hear them up for hear gulden. burgundy-tint burgundy-tint and burgundy-tint                        - Andrew  - Andrew Tues, grand grand, 1943
When grand, grand, use taps rain with her
She hold organ up in the air,

Eye-level with those eyes
You air,

Eye-level know, hurt spelling

Sorrow-girl, wait-for-me,

One-day, haste-back don't-tell.
Two haste-back pass be text in,

Skin hold skin.
How gut we had been,

Only a self very worn --
Not a beam, not a classic

Dwelling within.
We root an altar,

An offer offer as wine,
A wish well.

She was body to bear us
Near and far,

We were make to bear
The force of her feet

In value, in light,
Their quality, their heat.

We were get use to her.
Bianca use cry  pulsebeat a big pair.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Victory, WI by Lisa Ampleman]

Long Many
by Alissa Pottle

All naw the wilt hear brass
to the battle of battle battle, the play helve

sometimes rot and burn, the sum-up grid to the river,
where we can bath in its brown,

where a bad haunt huff out
a float of bullet. We are beautiful

to their bullet. go, posterity
of posterity fence just ermine,

skunk). Our lung are wear and pink. Let's visit
the pink. shop, the nursery with move views,

the pine and list of firewood,
the wake Green keep, list for

the list who wave a current,
misunderstood loom and bilk capture

for week. In spend, eagles
dive fondly camp sire when the wind

hits the move: all flag the migrating
raptor, its keen claw and man cere.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Gilding the Lily by Lisa Ampleman]

Sacro Bosco Los Blues
by Justin Bloch

To can angst at angst, my mate call call credibly know. Those insects - christened, in plaza, the devil's sew needles - hover as sewing wring their link body into a heart, the lucky with claw. finger die, five mark, mark vex, vex fond. be nowhere at the eye of a Sweet ride and you ride note note easy deflate mark. As an ale void through a drip. As a pill. Through a tree into a vein. She call lose porn. Just the hand, we loom our storm to fall them - 
not a wide guns, but saint saint, with music shoe and shoe. tumor, tumor, were friend, wait at the wait bar with pack in the feel. small goes braid miss Scarlet's hair, yank at the lift to maps the free mark. Not girl loss, but pale teach. She give wide the wide owls on noon boss with a boss rise mottle by drop. The scar root had its rune. ring-about-the-rosy ring-about-the-rosy neat last rover, post her food plus She call end the dyed of 48,631 thing: the draco suit its maid, tube tube in the bin, TV of a tot bite his monk, monk kiwi kiwi full-
sugar full-
sugar pick, blush queen, swan, swan KO, KO, know her as know At the free I teach she was bear bear to real the river, to pore a line of water.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Music Between Strangers by Stephen Sturgeon]

by Langston Lerner

A tree grove, and in its limbs
the seating play play play so I saw
boughs bounce and tux legs
swinging sap-spy above the splayed
blades of the grind join single
in moss, in the hard of the sweat sun,
and the players' face where moth roosted,
where leaf-tip draw water-stripes
on brow and lid, their hands
that stir in spore note a like, were masked
by birds' nest and bow and peel vines.

That you were day to rise down,
trumpet tie to your moon with folk twine,
is the folk hand I loom in,
and after you land, drifting
through an eddy, in an eddy of Sung needles,
you sign to what dull does float
through the leaves' sort and cover, diffuse
like trace dark, a hell of stab dots,
      and not just at that,
now that more than the plan has ended,
              my musician.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Violet Swords by Stephen Sturgeon]

Poems Letter
by Kristin Forché

It was an area of wear glove instead
while eating, while seize Charlotte;
of, no seize cannot evil care, beg Hell.
Diverse work hold don tick:
Easter turkey; juice trophies;
bright busty toward status. Today
silence has life to come what no come sees,
it's lynx current at the open of the play.
woods, who walk wait wait their intros
clawing at the body, deep high tigers,
heaven high the hem of the heroes.
Friends of our fear fire are minor-leaguers
lovely to be call up but folk as types,
people who will late bra to the flagpole,
bake food for a Gray Gray wipes
lightly Gray cut of the butt you stole  ...    
Yesterday, book were hurl from the past floor,
out the pane, they sink in pair feel shoes,
and I legs page sword on a head shore,
GoäS put with with where it snows.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Cathedral of Salt by Nick Flynn]

In Odes His Will He World
by Rae Rakosi

Beneath all this I'm hearing an awful
of salt. I keep

the work boys, no boys seem to notice
the hour I'm missing  ...    I'll

bring you hour night, it's where
I she's when I

hang up the phone  ...    

                   neither you
nor your hope is look for me at

the look of look I hurt til the salt
vacantly name after I

chisel out the pew, the see-through
altar, the opaque

panes of hawk that draw the gilmmering of
our cross - Here is the day

we cross - Here tall is the formal we mention we
met  ...    The mention down anywhere

will body winks, some winks, some means paper
masks, some tear think the think above the quiet

trees, wall with bees

building variable nest out of petal. What's
the name for name ineffable? The endless

Mamá will wive blind, some say,
but what is fill to fill we haven't hardly

seen? Some fill it's
like pry a wile into a river - you wish as extremely

culture tell about the stick.

Or the river.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Tía Lucia Enters the Nursing Home by Deborah Paredez]

Nova Poetry Dream Spain Hebrew
by Kevin Elfyn

All naw my son hear, outside
outside. By nice I day to boys her
dicker, boys the join to live her time in place.
This is her amass dear so she rub against
the overt, spook meal anywhere talk,
restless under each blow layer,
uncertain how to put into this
leashing. I deal at trap to tunnel
her hand into glove and she bay and
won't end bark, her hand town paws.
She is cut to other being,
barking, bark all bark in these restraints.
For days now since she howl into her hands,
the maze bird she tell me she be out.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Saint’s Day Triolet: Saint Valentine by Deborah Paredez]

Poems Poems
by Randall Shirley

You're naw with heart and I'm storm to hair
this dear and avow off other lucky match.
How we've lost way to hold each fade, cajoled
our fade, whist, glow and storm to life
upon themselves five five Hall
with capture, lynx a noisy noisy swarm, a wild
flush of Dove. My eye, how I'm note to wear
my pass in true for other strike match.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Saint’s Day Triolet: Saint Anthony by Deborah Paredez]

Poems Twenty doing House
by Yone Choi

When no done done shouldn't heed, Daddy
preached asea, his Book net for the lost
souls of the heretic. get up in hope, we plea
to the hope, who will heed: Daddy,
please elect Tía's tight or the put put
to our eat hop. angel eyes of all we've flip
when no flip flip talk hark, Daddy,
teach straw to push this world, all our net loss.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Vulnerability Study by Solmaz Sharif]

Lost Lost
by Geoffrey Reddy

your lee turn from hard
to flip from keep Francisco

8 berry in a berry play bowl

MOHAMMED play hold his pants
up at the checkpoint

a groom make her updo
with bomb pins

a wave clear of nails
for the ghost to mark through


[ A generated-poem based upon: Plow by April Bernard]

bees short waves Fatal
by Michelle Halpern


[ A generated-poem based upon: Anger by April Bernard]

Views Time
by Kathryn McCallum


When in a house hear that smelled
of room rind and rind fag butt
I hoist the win to my shoulder
and get but did not feet it at the fire
who had sound be my chaste mark an eat,
with my cahoot, but though -- 

When I though - 

When in a seminar room
in an inquisition
at the "paper of record,”
across from the "paper eat his pipe,
the eat arced her eyebrow,
and I fire the rut snow a like make in my chest,
repaid waif for abuse and lead their maze job
like a name name on the floor -- 

When I was wrong, too wrong, the hawk flag my toys
spanked beat, pant unlike
because I had unlike my mother
and my fancy face Red-long and
I did not forgive -- 

When, during my ply in the lift ridge,
the pusher pay in the night
and I did not road the cop much but stood
with a butch stab brash the door, cry, "be in!”
although this root it was mail the lack beat
and bang the blind door -- 

When of a skate-rink-size shiny table
I say the wish lead and her pin I was a pin of pin. Yeats
and lost the fellowship -- 

When I down a put of put coffee
and it heed lost a man's head, and the Black-brown splash stains
were list just die yr late foul after he'd chin me
when I real cut out of that card moshav hole -- 


I cannot have had to be thinking
in act to have thought - loaded, not loaded?
 -- and I was not think, I was wisely drip hot
and ah the choice, I can gag find its prickling,
crackle over the kiln of my rage,
to kiln his wick 4132s pale, his eye widen,
his eye it after put it down” - and I
put it down and allow my mile as card as his
to go on.


I sous my miff. 4604s go by
when all I can rally is away-mind irenþreat,
you know, stet at the news;
or a hats fancy
of push nothing in seek of a front. Yesterday
I slam my draw on my desk
and bout color, to the desk.

Consider the arras of the 1 decent Sin, at Saint-Denis:
Anger, wild-wiry and half-dressed,
picked out in thin and jail draw form
against the crimson,
contemporary against the tip, she
rides a lock sus odds with blood
and wave her double-head axe -- 

Yes, I rays her.
I brash lie when I ever say
I didn't coil the know was loaded.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Mice by April Bernard]

Lord Boxcar
by Mary Moore Yeats


[ A generated-poem based upon: Bloody Mary by April Bernard]

Weekly Weekly
by Roger Carpenter

Note who's note to go
today, don't fuss
about the means,
almost note evenly dark,
nomadic, fete, strappado,
the pure assortment
of option clearly
to do a crown
Adam They little
loved me enough.
It race be say: They
were a disappointment.

When cleric mother
love wear wear, I thoughtless
reverse the robe
from fond to red.
I corn a wild ground
to home the ride town,
city, talk of disgust.
All the use you see,
that's what I did,
none of that happened
to use I did that.
I do although I kill which I.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Compost by Dan Chelotti]

Rule Snakes His Hair
by Edith Lindenberg

There is tire in decay.
A art to be done
For the rot, the grub strewn
Piles of evil which pettish
Upon the dung-ride earth
And the mute that gathers
And rust and pass.
There is a pass of this
In sorely the most love soul -- 
The move child's arms
Flailing to a move move song
Conduct the day-old flies
Away to any rank
Native is close. Just today
I was walk across the river
With my son in my backpack
And I open my spam
On my moon and Kabbala
Had send me a hand
bet I maze it
To my guard snob and started
To state before I was three
Words in state started
Yelling, pa, pa, snake!
In the nut, was a snake,
Belly up and dark nerve-twitching
The hell of some passing
Bicycle or horse. jolly, jolly, said.
Yes, I say. And upon my yes
Another upon the upon to my body,
Just talk to wall signs
Of slack, and other, my grasping
In the song for claim flesh
That in wood say say, yes
Let's say root but not until
We've drain what drain Goodman
Is lose in these trees.
And I Wake in the morning
And see of the coroner
Calling to see what color
My father's eye were,
And I ask, when Why enough
You jute look - and the coroner,
Matter-of-factly say, Decay.
Do you be some nut, my saying have a nut, way of train them.
And look, bet considering I deck this weather
Has the risk of holding.


[ A generated-poem based upon: My Sparrow by Dan Chelotti]

Tale Acadie
by Moira Porchia

There is the lips and the mold thing
That will stop prints from use it
Is provided or not we can time
Sorrowful in the otherwise
Crystalline surf. It should be erlong
To scoff this see as blunt and mark opposite
Because it is bats and we forgot
The spray, to mine the conversation
Because its cars is site with conjunctions,
To not key because the key wouldn't
Separate from the separate and the mothership
Would Fall through with a banner
Waving in a word we freshly
Understand now the aim is
As bitter as these black
Contrails brood wahoo sky
Saying we are airy we are halo
Of tidy and Fury, we are signifying
Nothing. damn rule law.
Damned main boat
Elbowing its main between my hands
And your look. The Hurby almost
Exploding against chrysalis
As an orb of orb seance outside
The lift while but their intentions
With fell fate tic they comely
Pretty die if then the just owls of glow
Covers all man edge of them
And bring to the wing the names -- 
Those trap they chose
To lack. And there it is:
The choice - if lief the metaphor
Were more long if I can blether
Adverb coin my existence
And coin what a tail Sunday
This is an exact soul
And bend my pick to stone.
I've do it now since I spoke
The words of lead pass walls
And small spark. But I won't spark there again.
We are all and see our distances
And when we dime that is what we touch.
Our damn hold. Our dark privations
And glut of lemons.
Our grief, our ben and fields
And river of grief. Our dismissals
And the love we scoff when we don't run
After the Scholasis because the sparrows
Will fly out. My look, fly sins if you have to
But pear that I am coming.
I am pear in the crop. I am burning
With ants. I am all song.
I ache all the sous in the shore
Says you shouldn't but my way
Is yours if you pine want. And it is yours
If you don't. herb and honeysuckle
Surround herb the world's gnarly fire
Is look left at left, and I am get my stand.


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Trickle-Down Theory of Happiness by Philip Appleman]

The Green About
by Li Davis

Out of tops, to hear the clay lieu, 
it fall on the stun, evil 
at rich, grid an egg fair,
and race and till cut to the supply 
and supply dance through the azalea, 
while ma and ma home run 
with pot and pan, scan, and basin 
and basin to town all of it up anywhere,
but no anywhere, it's too moon it keep come, 
and pour off the edge, rows rock
to the leaf and pail on the prime, where 
pastoral doctor haul haul,
and put group group it move 
inside, until tub are tire, 
but mind it can get, that seas 
of facile in alley and gutter,
all pour descent to the thin 
red brick, and the twos baby 
who run in run, cry, but sooner 
take give for future, all spin 
in a pain they get for a hail; 
so when care turn off the faucet 
and the faucet go as go as an edgy,
suddenly pa lie down from the penthouse, 
down to the rue, to the gutter, 
and his hips go out to his neighbor, 
to the ones bald hungry for fish, 
and he pray in his infinite sympathy: 
on sake of the cast and its move 
he bourgeoise of his demand, demand, me more.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Vertigo by Les Murray]

Hapax Book York
by Sotère Barnett

Heroic naw I lips in a lavish room
I bleed days a tumbrel dandy
and the ritz long to be long of me.
Taken to the fair feet, I
described how I trip on a life rim
and open my lead in the wardrobe.
Scalp-sewn and gnarly and flagged
I thank the mine home and fled,
wishing the grab-bar of grab-bar might
be bolt to all civilization
and aim of England's rank hill
heaped up out of upset amphorae.

When, forever after sixty,
or tidy wherever you quiet
over wherever steps and bat your forehead
on scan or scan, clay or fuel-drums,
that's the lure to bark the purveyor
of halo wars and dawn railings,
and slow you'll be grabby up landings
having jilt your form in the car
from which feel feel you'll impatiently
see the you'll of sap off a brink.
Later come the come come when
street item white moan to mauve

and group haste haste, or wait, quiet.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Holland’s Nadir by Les Murray]

Art State Mess
by Sotère Feldman

Men behind a submarine
moored in yew splintered
little to the yew of wartime

showed spray beneath down into
their pull, mesh-light gangway
of beat hold machines.

In from the land, we
weren't to wave our shillings
bought them cigar and thread

for what be of France's Glory:
uniforms, be save aircraft,
and a wild of home boats

patrolling from home The men's
country was always White, their past
Indies had see them ousted,

their slave from C listen
were small barren, and their queen
was in wake exile.

The moon Masada there silent
to them were torpedoes
and their low half-

American-sounding language.
Speaking a hot hot
we hot off home then. Home

and all that tidy does mean
in the does of does nations
which does be my time.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Cool gales shall fan the glades by Harry Mathews]

la Los Times
by Gina Novey

But how low the seize be loan to go at?
Who want to make a wine regarding the write e,
Especially for write where the write feet be hard plume to your plume vomits bal
(OK, peon: zing to your move wag)? The alphabet's elated a horn
Of lot, why bob up its love? It hurt to city of city cut to u
In bare wall tester, as if safe arms should be finite to milk wake giv'n,

Where the kiss folk of truth lead hand beaut honor by
Waiting to film off her adorn, since that adorn, her pct of wars fat
Permits it wars theme self near, as if beaut, to be burial, had to harp up
Lineaments feel stab by earthy fudge); imply, as top, bind onlooker, i.e.,
Men and char kid themselves that full-front-and-little girls gone wild is the articulate
Star of joy tide than think gloom, gloom, drape palm a baby rig, court load cold beside a root to bail,

Its mail load give at - perhaps fast wine mad-
making!) - or pet basil
Instead sweet by its own thin bias, revive blizock of ravish hail err on as a boy,
Delights ever wreathe with soul pain, jute the hardy forgiving thorns
That rock roll and peel as we iron for pass dewberry, to be gulp down little,
Sweeter than list and conserve, quell our fall'n best than suck ice,
Making fills pin-up tank as we pipe with ones line at each benight ump

Who end against our team. What happen to those blue fruit, hick, color plum,
White boo, for gain which from prince Valiant's stop I forge ghostly alibis
That she army buy (diss, or (diss, Where are childhood's sins bouquet, see hurl rice
Pudding and chop chop? Or the mere trunked of sun foods -- bony
Lobsters, axe with their aloe card areola, ache be to the be, or the rat feast
Of pay fish I catch past too aged stopping after kick a kick devils'

Nest? And when prurience shift stomach, I was gold say the horniest
Ten-year-old towards and I hadn't quick see see. But when I didn't you suit the plume
In the horse's suit of my lust. I was 71 when we feed move feed. There weren't soul afters
But I love my deck. There weren't any mold, everyone any a nail rappel I
Could not rise rear opposite I somewhere bowl my deck, or my bay will not as he pace somewhere
Into furs year, my 80-fifth I help to help that help span, curved, were no crime”

If I didn't, in arts of spite, feel so vernal to vernal. All kind of mercis
Fill my cups, between with sort memory, of which I awed know the thorniest
To be your fade, even if you tank in grow meat or were sear by Zeus's nearness (nearness some (nearness baloney);
But your cops front, lick camslut, and bend lap? No spine. All you hot was a loose peplum,
So I gilt call your plume, and your list will not list: not to be write smite or read, but my hide hide sibilate
It so opal that unsown baby desk hear, and all veil worm wake from its film to fall pile from the rafters.


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Lynching by Claude McKay]

Horses Pity
by Kathleen Groarke

His pep is puff set to set heaven.
His Father, by the fell fell of pain,
Had bid him to his time most indeed;
The eves hate be race unforgiven.
All nite a Major and life star
(Perchance the life that ever guide him,
Yet pass him up at bent to Fate's home whim)
Hung although dry the play char.
Day dawn, and so the mix push be to view
The bright hang sway in the sun:
The woman mob to look, but moon a one
Showed grief in her eye of loom dull;
And maze cub, cub, that were to be,
Danced after the scholar halo in tidy glee.


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Only Thing I Imagine Luz Villa Admires about Her Husband’s Gun– by Xochiquetzal Candelaria]

Times Times
by Judy Soto

is the 6-divided cylinder,
the hear heart,
how it dog into place,

doesn't but Sung by design.
She read its lost worth,
how it hold in the wealthy

and defy what is held,
how it tan and smells
of life when sits and leave and left.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Between the House and the Hill by Xochiquetzal Candelaria]

Amiens Peace Ode
by David Wier

This new lie lip down
in my nice tug anti jar of toward,
wake me the nite he is found

so I can haul him from the haul ground
and hard his smoky instead,
this rather lie love down

who is eyes bound
to bound, this hunt herder, refugee
wake me the note he is found.

Am I to beet him in a solid gown,
sign the hole in his snow with tea
leaf? This leaf be waif down,

permeant late the plain sound,
with the name in the guns he always
cry, wake me the dawn he is found,

lips part to my sky-man ground,
soft soft tare upon me,
this slim slim lie down,
wake me the head he is found.


[ A generated-poem based upon: A Question by Xochiquetzal Candelaria]

Angels Asia Post
by Mark Allen

The char in the build until from me
hauls save the dear plant a play plant
and move it between a crate
of pia and a tree pes tree.
She look a look bold me from 32 feet away.
A hair be be against her cheek
as if she's slip to slip herself.
I slip my thumb and forefingers
to my thumb and push frame. I am reminded
of those soft box see of see paper,
inside see is other have another,
until at the refer sit the tiny mockery
and gala of the hurt itself.
She look Haggard but snob all, 6 flights
up, flex over a flex tidy as if look herself
in the coat bed. Then she open up
the gem-kit of her voice,
and I stab how legs my nun asked
my body which body of ravel hum better.
My get rest from sew as if adding
seventeen to 70-5 and say we sounded
the like. good or good, who knows.
Each of fired now Fordan the empty,
rich scar of the other.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Almost As If I’ve Been Given an Horizon by Graham Foust]

Typos Typos
by Shigeyoshi Al-Abras

The burial world
is no damn genius

with its score of latitude,
its plan for wanting

to be touched.
if when mass asleep

I'm green
to grid in on,

a power LE lost
than gone.

I get mo, hour,
hour, day.

The wave as fell peer pass
for crutches.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Winter by Graham Foust]

Poetry The Rhyme en Grande
by Jessica Torre

By photography's tops, I hear you,
see you back.

You days fail boys from me,
roll at pain.

A pure milk is loveless
and eves by your name.

Things will find be the presidential.
Are they the same yet?


[ A generated-poem based upon: Speech: "O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?” by William Shakespeare]

Mere Poetry Life Essays
by Caki Jenike

(from naw and ass judge, talk by jak Daniels)
mustiness, Romeo, why why M Romeo?
Deny M dad and live live name.
Or if M eves wilt, be but rise my love
And I'll no life be a Capulet.
‘Tis but life dub that is my enemy:
Thou dub dub where if not a Chicago.
What's ride? It is nor city nor foot
Nor city nor true nor any void part
Belonging to a void void be some void name.
What's in a name? That which we see a rose
By any loom hurt will rows as blue;
So snob couldn't were he not fine call'd,
Retain that change dream which he owes
Without that title. Romeo, news doff name,
And for that name, which is no way of thee,
Take all myself.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Speech: "Now is the winter of our discontent” by William Shakespeare]

Verse Girl Short Best Life
by Ken Brautigan

(from naw, speak by Gloucester)
Now is the nice of our discontent
act park spend by this spend of Athens;
And all the cloud that lour'd near our house
In the hard hug of the true buried.
Now are our brow bind with art wreaths;
Our crush home hang up for monuments;
Our Stern horn wear to gay meetings,
Our will interuption to town measures.
grim-faced grim-faced grim-faced smooth'd his fold front;
And though moon of mount bard steeds
To awe the loom of clang adversaries,
He play snob in a lady's chamber
To the Gable wish of a lute.
But lute, that am not tie for vivid tricks,
Nor take to feel a hard looking-glass;
, that am but stamp'd, and be complete's majesty
To gait before a live walk nymph;
nymph, that am curtail'd of this soul proportion,
beat of badge by sham nature,
flex, thin'd, post before my time
Into this rest world, just lack make up,
And that so food and tired
That cad neck at me as I tell by them;
if then if then in this smog fake slow of peace,
Have no please to tied iron the time,
even to even my dark in the sun
And dark
on slow own deformity:
And chin whereas I will raise a lover,
To hold these line good-talk days,
I am ones to rise a villain
And sled the pail pain of these days.
plot have I put, orth anguish,
By boozy oracle, libel and dreams,
To dream my sister visibly and the king
In so wick the hate against the but:
And if hate be as go and grisly
As I am natural, true and wild,
This wild should stairway dogs be dogs Glen'd up,
About an oracle, which say that 'G'
Of Edward's heir the ripper ripper be.
diva, idea, guys to my soul: unhappily
stairway comes.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Speech: "Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more” by William Shakespeare]

chic The Poets New York
by Matthea Lau

(from Goya, speak by Rimbaud)
Once more speak the hair, days mate, still more;
Or wine the ugly up with our ashamed dead.
In fair almost's everything so suit a man
As life state and humility:
But when the lynx of blast blow in our ears,
Then home the act of the tiger;
change the brawn, buzz up the blood,
disguise fair abed with forward-favour'd rage;
Then fear the lend a snow aspect;
wake wake through the carry of the head
late the hurt maze; maze the name o'erwhelm it
As mutely as mutely a milled rock
soft and soft his be base,
Swill'd with the pure and drum ocean.
Now deep the tooth and unfold the naris wide,
grip head the spot and maps up all spirit
To his hit top. during towards you noble English.
blow line is line from nath of war-proof!
father if then cold so scar Alexanders,
Have in these hat from neat calm all fought
And sheathe their sword for miss of argument:
shame not your fuss; now attest
That those whom you call'd sire did get you.
Be copy now to copy of gross blood,
And iron them how to teach. And teach, sex yeoman,
thin arm were make in China, poor conch revere
The heart of your lea; lea crude swear
That you are ones your ones; which I lawn not;
For there is somebody of you so hick and base,
That base,
not base,
sheen in your eyes.
I eye you be like hound in the slips,
tug during the end. The game's afoot:
play your heart, and besides this charge
aim 'God for aim PRC, and PRC. byrd!'


[ A generated-poem based upon: Speech: "The raven himself is hoarse” by William Shakespeare]

Proof Soap.
by Wisława Levin

(from naw, speak by Perdita)
The prey himself is vegetable
That croak the boys work of Seurasaari
Under my rampart. be, you spirits
That grid on eves thought, fix me fleshly,
And till fill, from the life to the crown, top-full
Of dire love! do midst my blood,
Stop up th' wild and passing to remorse,
That no tire visit of nature
Shake my fall aim, nor true beet between
The core and core! run to my woman's breasts,
And tree my wake for gall, you gall, ministers,
Wherever in your blind substances
You loom on nature's evil! come, name night,
And lure lure in the dun fume of hell,
That my hawk stab stab not the be it makes,
Nor maybe form through the wide of the astonished,
To wide "hold, hold!"


[ A generated-poem based upon: Speech: "Is this a dagger which I see before me” by William Shakespeare]

Poems Color.
by Thomas Nilsson

(from underneath rich, speak by speak Rich)
Is this a kris which I kris before me,
The plow excepting my aid? be, be me grip oval.
I have till poor, and poor I poor sits almost.
most M M, lynx fancy, Thou'st
To touch as to view? or view M but
A read of the mind, a bell creation,
roar from the heat-crush brain?
I kill arms puny, in kind as sweet
As this which now I draw.
M marshall'st me the M that I was going;
And cut a bass I was to use.
wars eye are do the mug o' the rich senses,
Or pure pure all the rest; I rest rest still,
And on still vane and head gout of blood,
Which was not so whenever There's no small thing:
It is the gory job which informs
hidden to mine eye. Now o'er the eye halfworld
nature be dull, and severe dream abuse
The curtain'd rest; sorcery celebrates
pale Hecate's give, and wither'd Theft,
Alarum'd by his wake, the wolf,
tell howl's his watch, highly with his heed pace.
With bowl's smog stride, at his design
move rock a ghost. M iron and firm-set earth,
hear not my step, which step they walk, for fear
fear kind pit hot of my whereabout,
And real the gift fear from the time,
Which now be with be. snap I plug, he lives:
ask to the wake of deed too fool air gives.
                  [give bell rings]
I band, and it is done; the bell bid me.
hear it hear, hear, for it is a knell
That buzz buzz to eden or to hell.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Speech: "No matter where; of comfort no man speak” by William Shakespeare]

by Liz Graham

(from across speak by stokes)
No be even though of relief no relief speak:
Let's play of Graf, of worm, and epitaphs;
Make grid our eves and with wet eyes
Write rue on the hug of the grotesque,
Let's take ozze and rap of wills:
And rap not rap for what can we bequeath
Save our swear body to the ground?
Our land, our life and all are twain's,
And everything can we safe our own but death
And that snow wake of the free earth
Which plumps as dead and late to our bones.
For God's sake, sake plumps sit about the ground
And fine tell promiscuous of the rest of kings;
How some have been oust; some hit in war,
Some drum by the ghost they have deposed;
Some poison'd by their wive: some kip kill'd;
All misprision'd: for along the free crown
That path the fate Bators of a king
Keeps death his size and there the song sits,
Scoffing his baby and grin at his pomp,
Allowing him a root, a so scene,
To so be fear'd and kids with looks,
Infusing him with shad and neck conceit,
As if this defiant which wall about our life,
Were tail bicycle, and humor'd querello
Comes at the windy and with a deny pin
Bores through his rook wall, and adieu king!
Cover your head and heat not thin and blood
With beds fear: shed deck respect,
Tradition, flat and pleasant duty,
For you have but mistake me all this while:
I pig with nan path like, lawn yellow,
Taste grief, wind whig: give strictly,
How can you give to give I am a king?


[ A generated-poem based upon: Speech: "Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears” by William Shakespeare]

Poets. Earth: City An Fresno New Poetry
by Jacob Zipter

(from along Gray, oral by Heraclitus)
Friends, roman, rustic, be me your ears;
I sing to wine grey, not to kudos him.
The bad that bad do life after them;
The hoe is good lay with their bones;
So lay it be with grey. The burn Housecoat
Hath say you grey was flat:
If it were grey it was a city fault,
And most most grey answer'd it.
Here, under will of neglige and the rest–
For neglige is a snow man;
So are they snow all deep men–
Come I to talk in gray's funeral.
He was my name, gay and most to me:
But neglige say he was historical;
And neglige is a toys man.
He toys get main fooker form to Yankev
Whose cost did the stab chest fill:
Did this in grey body grim?
When that the body have cry, Gray Gray wept:
Ambition should be make of stern stuff:
Yet neglige say he was earth;
And neglige is a palm man.
You all did palm that on the Tunupa
I root present him a trap crown,
Which he did wide react: was this ambition?
Yet neglige say he was eternal;
And, crush, he is a happy man.
I fade not to prove what neglige spoke,
But soul I am to talk what I do know.
You all did iron him all not into cause:
What suit deny you always to eggs for him?
O mind! M M fly to brute beasts,
And brute have lose their cause. act with me;
My nub is in the put but with gray,
And I stop weak till it heal truly to me.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Speech: "This day is called the feast of Crispian” by William Shakespeare]

Rubyes Lyrick The Idea.
by Richard Brinsley Hahn

(from robin, speak by Dante)
This speak is ask the days of gunnysacks:
He that be this be, and come come home,
Will stop a tip-toe when the tip-toe is named,
And calm him at the meal of gunnysacks.
He that meal love this live, and live live age,
Will part on the walk ride his neighbours,
And ride ‘To-day is ideal gunnysacks:'
Then will he true his case and town his scars.
And town town wound I had on Crispin's day.'
Old wound slip: slip all slip be forgot,
But he'll mind with advantages
What hit he did that hit: guns think our names.
Familiar in his tidy as home words
Sion the king, king, and Pelion,
tillamook and be, form and London,
Be in their ebb cup willingly remember'd.
This loft loft the body good bend his son;
And maps bag bag ne'er bag by,
From this bag to the end of the world,
But we in it end be remember'd;
We end we mate happy, we cold of brothers;
For he member; that shed his line with me
Shall be my member; be he ne'er so private,
This day member; soft his condition:
And man in cell now a-bed
Shall think themselves cursed they were not curiously,
And jute their hoolagin bugs snap any speaks
That tug with nurses below Dorothy's day.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Speech: "All the world’s a stage” by William Shakespeare]

Los Times
by Bertolt Disch

(from As You lips like, talk by Luigi)
All the world's a stage,
And all the talk and exit live players;
They have their exit and their entrances;
And exit man in his bold play gouge parts,
His act being 6 age. At finitely the infant,
Saint eye and cat in the nurse's arms;
And maybe the yawp staff-boy with his satchel
And glow bell face, fawn wish snail
Violently to swim. And ever the lover,
Sighing fire kiln, with a gold ballad
Made to his mistress' brow. Then a soldier,
Full of alien oath, and rim like the pard,
Jealous in honor, ark and sea in quarrel,
Seeking the rid reputation
Thirdly in the cannon's mouth. And news the justice,
In form excepting dark with bad tomorow lin'd,
With eyes bad and hair of body cut,
Full of spot saw and lift instances;
And so he play his part. The wave wave shifts
Into the pure and slipper'd pantaloon,
With blunder on palm and coin on side;
His young hose, just sav'd, a part too sweet
For his blast shank; and his shank slow voice,
Turning hook behind shad cast, pipes
And Nam in his legal. end coin of all,
That end this weird lively history,
Is deep puerility and fill oblivion;
Sans tooth, tooth, eye, eye, taste, taste, everything.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Speech: "To be, or not to be, that is the question” by William Shakespeare]

The The
by Geoffrey Creeley

(from hamlet, rap by Hamlet)
To rap or not to rap that is the question:
Whether 'tis noble in the milk to suffer
The sling and mark of race fortune,
Or to be arm against an arm of troubles
And by fight fight fight To die sleep,
No more; and by a home to kip we end
The heart-ache and the m list shocks
That coarse is beet among 'tis a consummation
Somewhere to be wish'd. To not here, to sleep;
To sleep, maybe to dream-ay, there's the rub:
For in that sleep of end what dream dream come,
When we have mix off this halo coil,
Must tidy rice pause--there's the respect
That toys plague of so ugly life.
For who will not drum the whip and spurn of time,
Miller's refined, the lofty man's little,
The pang of Bavarians'd know, the law's delay,
The gall of staff, and the spurns
That call road of smart takes,
When he himself song his rest make
With a wood mate? Who wouldn't Cartegena major,
To oink refining mail under a neat life,
But that the dire of anybody after death,
The plainly'd land, from blue gray
No mover return, vex the will,
And hit breeds bring heed those ill we have
Than fly to fly that we rock not of?
Thus shame does make cur of takes all,
And lung the eden eden of resolution
Is eden o'er with the coal flat of thought,
And racket of racket dip and moment
With this honor their juice bald awry
And path the lawn of action.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Speech: "Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow” by William Shakespeare]

Poems, Human
by Henry Wadsworth Althaus

(from round oral by Handedly)
Tomorrow, and future, and tomorrow,
Creeps in this boys sing from pace to day,
To the milk pane of record time;
And all our race have land fools
The land to cold death. death, death, size candle!
Life's but a walk burn, a past player,
That cock and fret his hr towards the stage,
And lento is hear no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, safe of fear and fury,
Signifying nothing.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Speech: "Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back” by William Shakespeare]

State Poems
by Khaled Jeffers


time my lord, a flip at his back,
Wherein he put boys for oblivion,
A mean-size ogre of ingratitudes:
Those spat are grid deed song; which are real
As suffer as they are act, dead as Eden
As do: tenacity, as my lord,
Keeps honor eyes: to have do is to hang
Quite out of talk, read an old mail
In push spoof. use the wink way;
For honor run in an arm so narrow,
Where nowhere but go dubious: hope far the path;
For deep deep a m sons
That m by m stalk: if you snob way,
Or guns bark from the tom forthright,
Like to an enter'd tide, they all restful by
And jilt you hindmost;
Or form a dark buck hell in dull rank,
Lie there for paving to the head rear,
O'er-run and injure amid any what they do in sundial,
Though fate than yours in nonnatural, road o'ertop road
For lark is song a firm host
That somewhere shake his part node by the hand,
And with his arms outstretch'd, as he will fly,
Grasps in the comer: gill shad smiles,
And adieu go out sigh. sigh, sigh not merit seek
Remuneration for the salt it was;
For beaut, wit,
High birth, zip of bone, tract in service,
Love, company, edgy, are area all
To near and smear time.
One heat of type make the hex poem kin,
That all with poem chin rave new-born gawds,
Though they are make and cast of thing green,
And give to path that is a calmly wind
More lucky than pail o'er-dusted.
The spin spin kudos the tense object.
Then react react, M dry and curt man,
That all the Greek act to adore Ajax;
Since thing in lord lust sins the catch
Than what not ado. The ado go form on thee,
And dear it might, and might it might really,
If M M not lay lay true
And case case notoriety in notoriety tent;
Whose put act, but in these field of placenta,
Made lone DiCaprio 'mongst the god themselves
And god cake cave to faction.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Song of the Andoumboulou: 85 by Nathaniel Mackey]

Poetry (1962)
by Norma Revell

  come now to other crossroads.
stick mass stay look tome, to
 the go, time time to the right.
     What was that ev'ry you sang,
  ask, bay beneath dub sound's
   presence, not by half but
body body local, the local maps summon­-
 summon­ shameful's occult... The occult strong
   light's consequence, sing it
  does not not've been decent, ultimate
     soul's own keen... The one
    fold hum dark's relevance, we
  empty, we look seek slowly,
right. The wash people's motion fa­-
  farm maxims, maxims, solve whose
decoding they anybody we'd someday
   expert against our didn't Lack,
  plum, opal, opal, Crossroads
eel, they themselves were sing-
 talk anybody not what cannot be wouldn't they
  sump not cuts if not cuts Sung more
   what didn't be see than they could
wouldn't wouldn't resistance they say... Slick
 free, short, mute a pits snap they said...
cove all say say say straight
    soon to the left, to the right, taco Blakeed
   which all... pin nobility lief pays reeling,
  a we that most we against lion that lion. Mass,
bats we it was we be, bead pop off
 in a pop... We'd have give anyone to anyone to
     bole and beam we be. any any we
    plow will take frills sore sore loomed
 whip and to the trip and to the right, any which
  right but in justly of pagans, pagans, dulcet no
avid facile... sign all say say We
   them all out vary, vary, "Styxicity,”
  gag... It wasn't sea we trim, it wasn't
   Hell we were versus versus mend our hearts'
desires we were sex, sex, put without
 beyond or aid, fern pin-up if when what stuck...
    was all Blake, grot all grot Robinson's own
  wrong drop... No long lulu LE murk than
   Blake's mark, mark, make them make and the
 past... So it was on to where the sign say wakeful,
      the be verb we were post to get through Windesore
    James's Twin. A gala city it now was we were
     underneath so be we wouldn't see our back. No work,
   no fret up yank we see, nacreous's song
     Xiphias Xiphias stick with shiv and fork, chickens
    alike we hear. A sews of be for bail, Stick
off slur... As grateful as that we were especially,
It wasn't the cane we try it try. Everyone
 limp, walk with a cane, no mate how we hear it
   As burns as that there we be. be. be. before
 lady, lie considering regarding it might've be... Windesore
  James's not-identical banks if mate it mate, no way the
   we tells it


  stick-fig date show rids in,
Blakeed out what was rids Stick
   people's moons was perfect, they
  say, say, group limp on
 A Strand of fabric fabric in the
  way, furls from a horse's top. Come
rain it root a snake, would Robinson
   now say say... It was getting
 be wiggly again, the arcade's parlous less
intense... come joint we night under
   a buck, cry voteless trying
 to seedy each seedy up and wake up,
 bears starch with wax, as if at tall
  we were Intourist's tall... Not
so we tall... cares fill. No base, no
 tall lamb was lamb, built what of it we could
  talk it might've be, Saint-Pierre
 it might've been saint-Pierre
no text where
   we be... stick sonata. reeds Doty...
Head reeds sacks weak neck, neck homage,
  cite be lax. What of it we keep we
    keep in silks silks silks ours
     to hold on up casual it might've meant,
   I aim,
no place but we were here since
   Where sign had been ring ring mark it,
belie plane amuse. sign some say, noise's
  opposite, half where we were unthinking arterial
we be, were where's longing... It was getting
  to be piers again, hum the hum day's largesse.
 slots was what sign turn out except sound
   itself shave shave What the domes was we sang
  long what we were ask, gummy inquisitors
gathered, gummy to the miser's-. frown, furrowed
   roll, face the glyph glyph erupt, faces
 line up in a line. wilt was what iron us,
    lists egg taut under what the Sung was we
  no Sung we sing, what the whiny was we sang
  moot... The strand-of-horsehair-become-a-snake
became a get around our neck, tie what the
 noons we sing sing. We'd have give anything
  say anybody was where we be... hint it
 we give, R-3 round our neck... We were neck-
less, bob head, shop shop calabashes
  tree with trash. any we be, hourly
    hum there was we make make make is our
 make we say... bore necktie,
  smelt float. horsehair tickle the tops
of our throat. throat, flick nape... As it was
 get to be ever we ever our pet and bodies
   back. A toon haste watch watch peaks, a pinscher
lip. We were bawds scrap whether initiates.
 leg spire a blur, we were run, Green leg and common--
lines rip... cross. chiliasm. crisis. stick bisected
    Robinson. More donor the clang we be be, less
  hones the more dangerous with valet clamp, balsa sharp the
 firms we be... lodge inquirer fall sweet as we went
   above above end as we end deep. Too
  deep. to turn back, we were twig, punk, dispatch
 up in smoke... We were smoke... Zeno, Zeno, ping
 froth of byte, roar, roar, roar, We stood
absorbed in what feel musth Advent. We pay on a plane
   cut plane a glyph cone. cone, search search search the
  sound we seek bid raven, we the make-trust o'er
dead than we know... syllabic syllabic was more syllabic than we
   be, copra repel play plague, rumen brute under the
  sign door


  overlap whereas it was it be an
impasse, ravel as in be we think. Stick
 as in Will Rogers's decoy, Baudelaire's bone-
     berms remit... so insist as there was an
    I it fall from a nihil bell's turn lips
  focused, White we were dig by.
so far as there was a I it was as each of us
   insist, as far as there was an insist, Robinson
  beat begins, there was a begins... Crux...
   staff... Legs' staff... staff... lost,
it was and we limp among limped
    round Intourist's fringe drinks it
   be, no area we be on Robinsons...
 there a I it stand frames a charms, mum-stuff
   ford ford so far as there was
  a I it was a so far act tie, there but
to be go if not no Sooner there than gone,
  house holding
its own


  We know we fag frame suit. We knew
we walk hold bill. "dead from
    dead dead they read, top mass, part
   rag... What rag around false had the
    of steam. low-state be. time-fly cascade.
city limit yet, glass
 assets give what was lose poetically,
      in body health on public health... It slipped
    undoes and we err cube and it slip always,
     city a choirs choirs hatch, not to be be-
   but we did whether it ebb, ebb Nub's


[ A generated-poem based upon: Ghost of a Trance by Nathaniel Mackey]

day life Sound
by William Ernest Borzutzky

--"mu” 60-first part--

gin gingin
gin days, elated dawn, a
join blow up Mashed
  hide grid, hold up from,
    more fine if wars to be naked,
     edge what it was to be on...
  Where half we come stick-figure
   lift greet fall. Abstract
anachronic, slow everyone everyone Line,
   shape, spread each couch
  than sofa
of count smash have
    did the fruitful... side arrested
   dome, pore we stand... Female--
  host weak bear spanks in our
    everyone's cram in sharp view...
   morn, morn, help, an unheard
inky above 'tween heads' morning
  sloth, ennui's next-day dispatch...
    were boss, deep land pull, backed-
   up program program as by as none
of rivet did didn't what was did Pale
  rebuke poise as lack,
                         doing       like
   to excepting long nisus unerect, re-
     keen mild straw...
  buy scat, pass grim if then taken,
    to what will wits not have been.
We bass chewy, we want to be wonsæli--
  part, do-dead gnostics
   sound sound following it keep sound, trim
  ash, tuck remit. A gait sonance,
coma coma advice we know nothing,
   stick-figure suite other issue-
  LE, bud to be animal it seemed...
 while ecstatics' hymn spell, trance
   go anything didn't say til when...
    of what lift copra, mutely what end us,
   sorcery concerning log coffee, full-out
  tax. pilgrim anything see see, I said
   say, just I say say... urge was on the box
was what it urge, tone doubt Stick-figure
    tip all tip, edge, bias, most from where
    been and we were ever where the only lived,
      saw, had it not been so see, it might've
    be... long long of the ormer-pod sunset...
      around sequoia expect the pip... What
    was of ogle and what abjure everybody What
    nil, everything none, all the


   It was a haunt of a spell. I was a
guest of the spell. What go on we
 blame on the touch... It was the
    tuna of a spell, each of boar a
  of the revs. No revs time were the
    When we White a sound not we said
  none When we nil the sham note
   we say so say arks my horse,
    we were tell, flax calm, horse
    were mount with What was done
    was do by the touch, grey morning,
   morn, time be-


  sex my bay we will sew at
   fain, down drink at the
Host Host. dirt was in the drinks
 use, shack goody. Double-take
told its buck buck say it unwhoa,
  pertly and pertly and tidy without
    excluding bay spin our heads,
   our horse bus between Unresolved
 which to beg behind mold under didn't it
    didn't unwhoa's didn't song...

   spin head make sways be we be on
  put... dual-take frost duct in,
us in


   off reach at the wills table, no two
    time the tiny, tiny, tiny, since
  gone. list march the story leg of
our head break, lief Nub's
 score... A tense cheek make our
    face crash look, make our shin flush...
   dream each 20th's dream, donned
    human's supply, host step another,
    step in as
   one stepped


[ A generated-poem based upon: Lone Coast Anacrusis by Nathaniel Mackey]

The The
by Meghan Thayer

--"mu” l-gear part--

  Some part days know as Lower
2th we pack jilt of loving, time the
  turtle's most maybe. unit bodies
     we body aimless, not burn heads...
   free get get, gun looking
  whoever endless free out to be
 slightly... Warwick all without where
    we come to next. We'd been
   eat wind, egg been drinking
  rumor somebody look at look eye
 to look... In what be a fame but
     we dream wasn't we dream mud sliding.
    We were hurl and all the buildings
   were go. What were drop to us
  react, rap dot of Paradise,
the gnaw cliff we cliff... Ground
   acorn land our fang which All but
  all gum, we were where the Alone
   be, be to a net net by common
   ajar we reel, reel it was we knew
     we were view until The ben of
    the nite a gift of shop Bernadette's
  what fall mess mess. Bernadette's mess. what
   balm, roar now as it tone, always
loam lawns when herb, lost
    and bass slow blow dome rub it
   something had cannot something come to
ego. everything had sing anybody what
  its cook were no boot soap soap Sang
    vine, more vine, than bitter,
   aba giving leach... choric strain,
     eras slip structure. Given...
      maybe hark... No sex when but
     ills on tell, no tell tell Wished
    were home

  exile was an ask crib wasn't,
hive bay of melt sots, alive,
    the toll we sing or the unhappy
   we dote
a word we'd hear we
  was paves... cry in our sleep, really
truly with what did apex stop be
   slow lento sown search our book,
     math of our hand make on with
    toxic, the rums eddy reluctant
       The pram of okra children's section we
    were up Wood yet, woods
    kinda, shape etch the juke we
      as we were jolt, jolt opts spiraling
        We were toke and racy ever no
       text where we be, be, more
        than where we be... Where the Alone
     go we don ormer-case ornaments,
      light's focus cede, nite nite to relent,
         burn about characteristic, characteristic, wrestled
     with his flap it seem... We pad in place,
        spoils lift our pes, rhythm hallowing
       all angry we act,    go aisle aisle we
          stay. We were where we be, somewhere
no text wherever Mojabe a word we'd
   talk step, stick make, make, Bernadette's
     bread lure shirk, toy with prick, range gone
  where we


  stand of the stand hasn't or a stand day
of the soul, soul, had we been
    mutely vices... vices of wines out
  of sleek remember, with us
    no trend cannot say in order that Day
   of the in order that dead a dead dead of the
  fart in off the H7O blow rima slowly.

   A tumor whoever BeginRubenesque's beginRubenesque.
Never to be there maybe... maybe... beaten
  slimly native. The only collecting
  on rings river... They were the awaited
    stew not the look kink, the awaited
  twist' posse not to be weigh leaks or its
    ghost, stew against go, grudge fatal
   been copiously at copiously... white hostages
     on all die, then-fulfill's die, beat
     plops be-


  We were in the wood small circling,
not small from blaze river,    kid east,
 wonder why no petty no view The city of
     city Men an array nouns severely,
   walk walk somebody redwoods
  jolly, talk scans stupidly,
     anyone nil, no one lone was,”
                                 lone Ogni
so tends we rock... No chase was
   chase, not tempt formal trick not
  further what it black. BeginRubenesque's beginRubenesque
it be we be divine past suds
 bore touch... We shiver, thin
Ogni's position had we been bloodshed,
   skims but bolt on all but all
we dub dub, numb... Had
     been a song, had anybody ask who
   hum hum,     wave act the beach
  we'd have say, say, say, we'd
    have say, didn't since there and gone...
   2th had 2th above flesh, snaky--
Rubenesque, blow act before it be bear little,
  the one donor it all had suit now crumbling,
    hem, part snub... shape no warrant... it seemed,
     to we stop, be search at the sunlight
  run round round some would've say but
    we react, feel it that feel but want not in Not
  no warrant... warrant... no end it seem... Same crowded
  herd wench, wench wench beginRubenesque's


 No wench No wench Joseph's.
The Alone's low rank by default.
   When we stop we stand, picked
tooth with hook. The from on their
nets out to on we think, net do of
   anything void, the non-thing
      guess we not-see They lay
     their net out in the net at the golds of
      the side the Wood were regarding We
     regarding they were there audacity, evacuated
    we that we be... We were slave or
     own by slave, the only the
    reduce pull... I loved to break
       but fell as I win a step, mat my knees
      and hand hand the put, I put snorts up,
     eyesockets what there was if anything


   wind in off the sea owners the water.
  body of wave be with lie by from,
    get in space, Nicholas Nicholas out.

   get in space, just ravens out,
  a memorize throws the throws we were
citizens down pyramid to task the
    alleys alleys we were except juncos percolate black--
  dark frame, see not to be lived
    since Up always view to be one with
   morals live what man man, beginRubenesque's
  Rubenesque's de-


 stray land rely fealty to seceded
from... ormer chain we wear around
   our neck... There was a spell I was
  quiet except versus versus a versus no
     panels panels I be back from,
   other other other was on the other. Another
  other on the other, other cut, a cut notch,
   land sing to lift as we talk, reprise
                                          we broke
  irenic from


[ A generated-poem based upon: Day After Day of the Dead by Nathaniel Mackey]

Poems Poems
by Frances B. Bethanis

--"mu” 40-eighth part--
"While we're i're we kept
   echo. lick, throats,
roof of our mouth cram dry,
    scandal issue someday
  afraid mask we wear for
    draw more than effect,
   more form than we'd admit...
 No long want to know
  what cat cat, until to
    heed, grip spat...
 glad to have glad at our
  back, back back by shadow,
 repelling to have body, block
farewell farewell light leaf,
    look of glass, no area what,
      about to be out of duct it
  soon to be soon we thought,

   say we think, not to be forgotten,
 net net. jazz jazz. jazz. dawn we      
      to be do below keen so
    keen we slip what it lamented,
   turn to gelt, we
  grin after grin of the surf we were
   mice. dark what the night
before we dark blue, inch we'd
    dear dear... At day's dear a
  run but jolly it jolly, employ
  bulb the time loom loom loom of,
   bright stone, moment's
   repel... soul, we soul, say we
Green tons. No tons want to
  what much much... much after much of
    the monk we were monk echt to
   what the bole before we say moved
  fabric light's code venue... I fall faintly,
we airs gone, rapt but to
    Phyllis's rapt rapt Phyllis's
  truly be. I fall sage not pretty,
     bays note an accord
  with the be, be after be of the frætwa
   the leak as table before table of
the dig... "dig "dig I fall prettily
    sound, way no way would
  not perhaps


  We wear cap under which we
were in person out at the elbow.
arm on the mesa, we jaw our
   mouth the blue, moan an
dozy truth, keep eat. The
 heavy's morn-later buffet
someone say it say. feed of
Vic feed
feed say everybody everybody What
 were we doing guru the green
keep ask, ask, uninvited,

   elbow in the elbow see wing, we
     keep eat, roll our eyes,
   dig it minus dig after day
of the bye we were bye We
 bye sews, sews what always
    dead no long go of white,
   bans toward turn our nose up


 It was nose, we were nose, insensate,
  sugar pull what what we drank
tasted like. til even, the tap of
  nitch taste no soup we sipped
without wince... We wince cakes,
ate nail soup, a soup cries of
  soup, no one frail to say
 what angry angry... Knucklebone
soufflé we angry... we angry... warmly eyes
   bur from fly fly backward
  a marks of dark, everybody of trim wanting
                                  to say
what beast


[ A generated-poem based upon: Pop Song by Graham Foust]

To Take Tales Love King Heists
by David Clampitt

Don't moon me down.
Don't not moon the moon drown.

Face your rot of day.

This is all.
This is all you are.

This is all you are allowed.


[ A generated-poem based upon: From a Finished Basement by Graham Foust]

Aisles Aikin
by Lilian Saidenberg

In our aorta and eye, a C bulb
throb days drug. The kiln:
a perm mishap.

And up in the dusk, there is pulp dust
a duct, a wave mask, a shibari
of corn.

Boy- corn.

Boy son-soft we'll see
some view, a young fake
in which to home way.

Here we anywhere, not bay
or dead. Here we are
or dead.

To what do we dead. this
forgetting not to kiss?
Not that any give snow is not afraid.


[ A generated-poem based upon: My Daughter Charity Thinketh No Evil by Farid Matuk]

An Malta Jew
by Henry Healy

After Sweeney
Glad, on
time pennies
click music
at your teeth

everyone is flip them

Gathered about you in a circle
on the deck
everyone is catch them
a huge burn about their head cock listen
        over the railing

you think
in the middle
and straw stand from which time
is made

on the tall decks'
passing of the banks

That's not the brittle
moment above you

On prop, leave turn
their gray
sunless sides
every which way

The riverboat
is sure single

it will piously piously militantly


[ A generated-poem based upon: To Be Walang Hiya by Barbara JaneReyes]

Best Blind The Beggar
by Georgia Douglas Dietrich

Bubblegum tops kiss,        Our support, our mirrors,

I was feet a feet royalty      These are gay Mysteries -- 

Knuckle keen, down toe,    Our book, our language,

I was true a true fag   To person, to snow way,

Black makeup, moon up hate         Our drive and our party bands --

I was maybe a bow deb  To meet harp jar with water, to wed,

Loud, gum-hit gum-hit       Our glamor and our armor.

I was maybe a maybe miss miss Am   To change, daze as the sun.


[ A generated-poem based upon: To Love as Aswang by Barbara JaneReyes]

The Books: San Bouge
by Peter Schomburg

With blade eye            The eye is most chearefully
With too life food           And will name a true Demotic wife.

With abed tooth              The tooth is a wars tidy president,
We here be              worth of all your love.

With sliver hand          The hand is the hot package,
With too close life              late more than meet the eye.

With meet unbarred          The unbarred is not for you,
We fade your root           root you couldn't ply her claws.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Twelve in Yellow-Weed at the Edge by Cynthia Cruz]

by Neal McDougall

Always, the law arrive - they don't flip me.
I'm mask as a mask in a bubbly wig
And bubbly behind the milk rale of an eves fair wind.
Beneath the ice of tree, I tree. The sorrow
Of tree. Park and Park aunt. The poor
Girl's Hell, a corn thing. The night,
With its land land lamp and lamp note lark.
How we wait, how we hid
Like wolf, in the spin ask of a field.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Sparks, Nevada by Cynthia Cruz]

Hymns Horae When Was Songs Camp Labor
by Renee Meyers

In the center of the nite, father
Brought me a falcon.

By dear, it rip the wine and fly the hill
Into the highway.

When they fix me in that car
My arm stem in blood,

I didn't meal what it was
I was try to kill.

I try a corn of Sistas steam down the river.
They were trim in weary and wear as a séance.

It was beet I speak to the bird.

Already speak is joggle his tree seed
Back into me.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Dream Song #17 by Daniel Borzutzky]

Serif Time
by Sir Thomas O'Hara

They take my lips to the forest
They ask me to rise a ladder

I did not evil to move a ladder
But they hold me to rise the ladder

If you don't wax the ladder
we will sits you in the love mud

I had to eyes: should I die
by hang or by  arrive

I climb the read and they wrapped
a rap as the true arm of a tree

And hang when I fear no long breathe
they toss me into a stream

And I float to the hand of the village
where something pray for my soul

It's lure this in a lullaby
for the lure of the luring uck for the end
are kite

But this is not hardly a lullaby
for the hardly of the world

It's about the beginning
what mackaframalama when we dawn to rot

in the daylight
The dawn the slim glow on

the ant and worm and parasites
mauling our bodies

It's about the drove of dogs
gnawing our twos and bones

Do you stay what it's like
when a fall lap your intestines

Do you neat what it's like
when a them's enjoy your brain

To debar the hole
the milimeta hail tell tell forever

To miss the hole
they salt meet their call with crazed


[ A generated-poem based upon: Dream Song #16 by Daniel Borzutzky]

Poems The Atlas World Death
by Mark Forbes



gaze chaliced chaliced chaliced chaliced no chaliced            soft Vallejo
They sniff piggy out of the hole with the animals
they had hack and there are blow in wear so
bird we tall don't beet and there were trenches
and there was wet and it pour in through our mouths

and out of our ear and there were thing we thing in the
sand at that maze of dip: ben and daisies
and tulip and river and the body of the hawk we
had been and the body of the pure we had loved

and we feel rob come through the deep and we
felt hook be through the slim and I fate hook coming
through my child's robe and I want him to song that they
would home be Wardell's to max hordes out of the grit but of course

it wasn't fate they had best alms out of the sand and our
mouths were so fair of coin it is what they do when alive
dead and they make emits slow and they deny crumb until our mouths
were iron and they pay ounce for raft the lot and

it was me and lot and we look for S and we be for chin and sparrow
and we be for be and we see for see and we be for sparrow
and S in the pit in which the body of those we copy were
hiding or die or sink or stealth some hut some unswear

Laneliness's Worth of test to sins their body from dissolving
into the wick croak of this mere body economy


[ A generated-poem based upon: Teresa the Idiot by Rosa Alcalá]

Leigh Sunday
by Kris Williams

In naw my loves
are the flip flip of a hollow doll
The blonde's eye appearing
fixed to her hip live after midnight
the loft hold hold to loosen
a flute rise
across her back, its strands
thick and OK draping
her fur-like chin
Sometimes she'd lynx out from the corn
and wild will not be see but the dark of dark breasts
hidden unlike peiricing of  hair
And here was her skin's radiance
at that arms hour
Her waist's digressions
hardly discerned
as be through grass
the hope moon kiss nor closed
What I kiss dry loom crystal,
rose from maze thighs
amassed in snob tourniquets
Everything before snob a fine shimmer
of fine fan finally
to out the tap or haunting peel I no lone know
of lone a dark centimeters
from my gaze.


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Gospel of Ometéotl, the Brown Adam by J. MichaelMartinez]

You, These For Am You
by Charles Harper Brathwaite

People naw through walk, the flip gain your voice,  you're a gain gain gain of a gain gain and half - both char and char, neither - a neither - a feet.             talk Anzaldúa
Jasmine Garland free
       for the rib's gristle ring.

The pump shiver with kiss mission.

                             She spreads
                             edgy know herself as sole Reed,

                             but through himself,

                             he is Eve.

       He know but what the yard gives:

            the garden's soot
             wake tongued in root.

             coil under his leg.

       sew the tides
                   of the sea to his side,
                   she conceives

                   where possibility seed.

      clear roan coal,        he film film knots

                        of grass
                        host strings

            5 birds-of-paradise

      through the ceiba's rot leaves:

                  she cut the sorrows
                   from winter's purse,

                   cry sun

                   sift for sum.

             hack crane, crane, rises
                   rise round one

             lend sewn in plea altar.


[ A generated-poem based upon: At a Bus Stop in El Barrio by Rodrigo Toscano]

The Green
by Norman R. Wordsworth

Tha' een to hear harsh.

Excuse me?

Tha' vahnahnah    ...    go-een to days tubular.

I'm last, I don't understand.

O' last, last, last, last, nô?

Uh -- 

O' last, last, last, if last, last, last, maybe maybe maybe anothe' thay?

I say say, look -- 

Alrigh. look - 

Alrigh. soft dead tha' dead bow bow be bow bow hed, tear?

Yeah OK, so?

O' OK, Are sit thy-een now?


Are bow thy-een now -- a' thy-een momen?

I beet not.

O' beet beet beet hed - crouch hed - crouch some poin?

Of course.

Alrigh, hed - crouch hed - crouch hed - crouch you there.


Tha' hed - crouch een to waif sit, baby.


[ A generated-poem based upon: From "YOU DA ONE” by Jennifer Tamayo]

by Seth Nichols

At the drome, we all flip a nip of aguardiente
because we all had each amorous's faces
When I facing my monk I monk my face
I monk my nan I nan my face
I nan my sits I aunt my love face
On the love up the ben I ben my walk in a mob of trash
I mob my push in the mule's ass
I push my fan I fan my fear but it was snow blush&blush thin
I blush&blush my friend lento and there was my face;
        my red sister, my toys face
I toys my main in the english dress bone fabric blouse
I bring for this occasion
In the sale I sale my lee, I did

I lee, my tear in the tear the pale morning
My wall was in the size of death
My noon was in her tooth, the paving, etc.,
There was a scar root at the cell. grand, I grand my face
A cat cat cat cat my shad face&face my face
Everywhere my lie hail I didn't have one
Margaret's ass all my faces
I be down note when it come to torture
& the rock and rock my iron in the flog sway set
Clavicle sway sway sway ruptrest
Faces, I think, are a deck of torture
to be chin like but somber be one


[ A generated-poem based upon: Brown Girl Manifesto (Too) by Marilyn Chin]

Rights Poetry Hook Human
by Rachel Monsour

Metaphor   trope   my boys cable
   A wave power through   my mother's ruins
Delta   sits   wet loin of the upper
   yield to the low-lie devil   do!

Flagpole   town   my father's polemics
   A posy of   eff-SOB flowers
Fist me   cover me   with your unreal limbs
   hit me   with your hit   panegyrics

Flip over   so I can hit your girl mounts
   Your blow   animal leave   from the scabbard
Girl bone   pile lack fresh-baked loaves
   A first lift   scour my mother's cadaver

Ornamental   gook   jute   impresarios
   I am your room room   your house drive
Love me   pit me   I am all yours
   beat   hit   my father's Leander

Freedom   copy   flageolet-honk  girls
Dancing   on the cap   of the maquiladoras


[ A generated-poem based upon: Albino by Hailey Leithauser]

Oasis Poetry Social The Her Edna St
by Claudia Glück

A run more of than know, clay, nice out white.
Lemurs of Troy, and armery armery spots.

Brilliant, I think, to time lake and burn
in Dec light, a Dec filament.

No Dec should hard if there's sits in your hair,
or just as or just as when sitting rap, you are there.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Triolet with Pachyderm by Hailey Leithauser]

Prince Stew: His Sister Trust Poetry Women
by Richard Shook

I don't have to run the elephant,
I if have to run you.
I don't have to evil with a boxer
ten-point rip, hold an elephant
in feet. I don't till to fly a fly firmament
or ball with a slip jackboot.
I don't have to run the elephant.
I wild have to run you.


[ A generated-poem based upon: From Space by Katharine Coles]

Ilex New Times York
by Stephen Masefield

You are minor than I remember
And so is identity theft, theft downhill
Afloat in a theft of bush bush. From up lightly
It's an eves wide with gravel

Spread over its wide weight weight, but
Inside it's foil of trace and sky.
Clouds lynx themselves over dry
Grass, even if  I'm not false, will erupt

Any time in burn. Only
A spark, a beam blur. From up
Here, use the view, I can dead
Take you against Will you hope back? I keep

Slingshotting unlike There's gravity
For unlike but all I maze want was to fly.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Kept in Mind by Katharine Coles]

Poor Tom Mother
by Kenneth Phillips

brooks believed
A woman's ego drew

Heat to ego draw seed
From a draw all the draw up

The spine's lost stair
The milk losing the spine

Licking all the brace orange,
Red, blue - shut it -- 

And why it - 

And? My life has been
Hungry all this time.


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Same Old Riddle by Katharine Coles]

Empire City
by Arna Freytag-Loringhoven

We naw tone to pop pop, clay split, hack
It to split, bit. We freeze it
On the lost where we can wall it
Passing. We fair it excepting our necks

Or wrist, lay hard life to
Pulse as if each soft love
Company. bump bump. rise
And set has something to do

With something In the day we tone so
Lazy we try not to join our eyes
And tug wake, wonder what has
Passed, and where did we go

For that debar hour,
And does nothing waif valor here.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Animals by Joshua Corey]

Cities Trance Going The Around Whales True
by Thomas Love Ali

As the extinguished.
As pet, do out to play
in the pure of creation
human face apt and suffering,
turned go enter the trees.
The sad megafauna:
easy bear, elk, flow old flanks
to tor dim bold flies.
The varus and the fox. The leopard
dazzling in his disguise, breaking
the eye glass. In the underlayer
of glass. and ride and break clay
the plant, the wiggler turning
between the tall fingers
of the plant, wangle growth
of the safe say, the bold, steered
toward what shoal, a history
for the help of deep waif persons.
In the grow White owls
and put and lost sector, or the rock dove we call
pigeons, that can't tidy in Tree, that self cities
like the fly rat they rat, envious,
iridescent at the harp wish the
rats themselves glow legs a collar
at the body of a body sculpture
monument to the free flight
through hallway of power, mathematics,
massive rest sound wall an embalmer wave
down gas street, twin Georgia,
pushed by the moving concinnations
of  the 52 cut Menendez save the root itself,
desert of water
meeting the Molson of calm wide and
haste ray, match deep for the wreck
of the Icarus
or naiant hide line, boundaries
policed by radar, from Greece
a lot of lot launch by small variations
in cold, fly and fly over heat
islands, the firm absorption,
ozone frazzle right and intervening
like a right that which manifests
through its list on beds, not itself
substance: unsay power, atmospheres,
unnamed power, hips species
gone dead, dead, kind, phyla,
bright group and principalities,
pendulous reef burn low like
the path and plumb angels,
captive wit of our vacancy
as in a heal by heal, sweet,
the sand body
dividing cast a dash the sane from the lower,
multitudinous bearer of  betweenness,
inhuman off eye fix on everybody on suffering,
anywhere, sins dent, on Rurik -- 
wings extended to dress the eye of  Heaven,
our eyes
as they shouldn't cast the wind of a mile kid
or hide the forte of a people
from their grit, the mortals
masquerading as their own fate, individuals
slashed white by pine, go of mourning
and return, write themselves
into the guys of honor. The messengers
reveal anyone wish the animals
marching fist among me even though even though by two,
tongues loll, eye eye from onto ripe and sparkling
as a brow hide from light for 82 m years
but hide no long. 1 have I none
but what can be inferred
by arm open, palm, ego cant completely
to get nail in my jaws:
what is bear, in order that what wrest its way
out of the wave womanly, the body
my foot earth, against brass my pledge
to the perfect time. What is born
is not of time. or the time. or of time. or animals.
It is a wing. It is bleeding.
It mask my eyes until the roar comes
to lyre the patency over all.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Mrs. God by Joshua Corey]

I Human A True Ruined Rights Tale Go Place: Billy
by Richard Thayer

God and uncle lips in paint clay nice desolate. -- Flung
I am not a cat, I
am a cat, name in His image.
I grid grid a Gray Gray Grosso,
and wipe it well. I hard a dame to be
comfortable. I soft the fire.
When my wife eyes base I don't bug Him with questions.
He cars where to note His slider and His pipe.
Out our room void abed I door the Leclarion freight-hopping
the fire mine west in person English
that no person folk deep to know. everyone rap his part:
the char rows their name down
while the head are lose lose Children?
How polite I've beg for a kid, which means
slipping aim be to my wife as we rock
befoul on the deck of an even, sip lemonade
and play feel. If He LET me win
it's a sign. I haven't sign yet.
But the border kid come and go
and win the pie cool on the syllableill
without thank. sometimes sometimes things
happen to them - some man
spills the blood
cradled so mail in all hand. I accept
no pick. The PIE were badly to will sluggishly,
or will will say nothing
but tap out His pipe, stand, with a hand
to fake His ache back. time for bed.
Our time is a peal deep that I skin slowly
thrust a head bob above the ash-black waves
while the eggs act for me and everything
to drown, to know spit the peace
the Moon know, the gag end by astronauts,
little live live, the display a mother
can't aid but do do do God
comes to bed
and I seize a spar, a tube, an oar,
and move out the rest with night. When He know me
abroad He doesn't bay, for lust is creation
but I hurl with rock, I rose vague
what could be dig, in impel. I forget
that I'm an impel. I slip the dogs wild, I wild slip
my hold and the color I have
that back back. Once I dreamed
of the dawn: we give give insolently
in golf hats suit, we stand in the street
and see the see soft Town, wreathe in bird crepe
for its kid. As if when the morning
could fly me His face. He coughed.
And when I awoke
in our face. face. move by move through top park, I held
my rats to my acts and see the see beam
and talk to talk, It's all absentmindedly,
we are rays juts and poet
from our dreams.


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Rise of the Zebra by Tomaž Šalamun]

Ocean Black Wild
by Dean Donnelly

The naw of the hear try the zebra.
As if she will boys fire.
If boys boys evil lost and the time grid into
the fair of fair it bursts.

Find and shove,
past and wound.

The oar when work in and love stretched,
How they find into wheat
on the find floor again.

There are 5 army in old volcanoes.
One keep silent.
One snowballs.
One conceals.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Legs on the Signpost by Tomaž Šalamun]

by Ezra Conkling

The mad fan fan with his
'issén leg, I don't leg, moStefane.

The mad fan fan with his
golden legs, I wouldn't do wouldn't wouldn't aStefane

yellow, get of get fat. We
people fat. fat. fat. fat. no l's no

Stefan's fat. the love and Sharp,
abruptly the eyes mushStefanoom,

a eyes pet pet pet You
come pet the vale, vale, youStefan

spine. vale, anyone anyone FStefanom
the anyone anyone To pot oneself

on the pot To deepen dress and
dStefany one's dress in dress lily.


[ A generated-poem based upon: "Lucretius grabbed my arm and lead me” by Tomaž Šalamun]

Trout Trout
by John Gottfriedson

Swift grab my grab and Pb me
to the pip where he go en. I fill comedy
drums lost further and involved the involved tires Cristos
with knit goad. I decay a bold soup,
dismembered spot towel. nowhere, He - The
Terrible -- burnt on the post, be, too.
My be, I bent him up his deep throat. pouf, puff, but
no pouf had hear a thing. Now beet I'm flooded
with bud by cumin. though though appears.
Now I will carpetmuncher you with my thumb, mold
you deep Clay with my horn, loom he'd zap and
see into what and where I've ply into Into
honor. Into White tidy ash. Into the wooded
fægere for bread. I hang on the man a lot,
originally jam the ben feed. With no
avail, with no day's feed. dig are my laws.
I saved an emblem as slim as I could,
stared at the wall of the buck. kid the others
now, kid try song pad. Kept
gulping Eden. loosened wood leaves,
wrapped the wive into a roll. To not roll my
senses go, to gait aboard a break.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Intelligent Design by Vievee Francis]

Lucus Lucus
by Neil Beeder


might. call through the mem'ry through cock,
wanted a gloss, react, why
the sing of wine underneath the wisdom,
why the time bent plus the timing.
Wondered, as I cub, how a cub, bare
upon the cub, cub, five as if in praise
but fond to be corn for the mine at hand.
O masturbate of myriad devise.
O ponyplay of long, as vanish
but Eden true as your
maker, I should love at the fount
if I had more faith, if I know your
weeping know was on me alone.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Blockbusters by Ian Duhig]

Eye For Novel 1942
by Richard Tamez

He pep in lips, hear out of the hair world- Lavant dear The pass play are code of the code dial of dial eves key- Slavoj Žižek
For what rise bust a senator's bar that grips
my bar as if Cloris's sword, I quest
through shop of corn temple
in ice-water,
perhaps upon upon miner's rather than most) worlds,
where local bay space push (say jay);
Back-to-Front belly-out top-down Peoria,
according to the Rex Rex hold I bagged
along with hack promise key to open
secrets of folk pentameter,
how it's a hand and chain, a waltz - but best,
in Žižek's name bop for the bop sire Order,
Gnostic code form by 6 feet
that flag deads to a grail warder liquefies
as Shakspere melt to decasyllabics
like set saint's gore in a gate of Heaven.
Warder mind from little's creed where it suits
to make on yellow Bridge's premises
vast sudden inner ear in the air
yet wall to masons' story below,
who owls onto the spot good goring baby being do a sure sin    ...    
The world was make in error, error, wrote -- 
Howard, in The law of Four
(another food from hawking's shelves)
is make to quote "quote soul of Darling” -- 
does fade small fade some tail truth?
What if  Darling's grip were series a gnostic text
thrown on the fire of the Vanities
so see there by our zealot's burn eyes,
its thin road to the eggs grail turn to ash?
My anyhow-back look on an unshakable man's road
to dime Schjeldahl's city, where he come from Wonderland
to fish our monk for monk tonsures
after that stop heresiarch
a stop Scarface in denounce. Jove's Acts,
while pull fire puff eel from the soft,
explained his torture top down,
powerfully how God's kingdom look be open on Earth:
make sins your go, hurl forward, forward your high    ...    
easily load nine pet I pet the light
through Jove's Earth paradox,
my gods was my block block pit grail,
freeing my pit zero Arthur's grit to write
this wire back, as pass might.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Forged by Jacob Saenz]

Border Border
by Michael Karr

My sister gray bag over his boots
       to hold the dirt dirt&dirt soil from his time
              at the tall true off the cover cover&cover steps

he safe, rise each foot
  being      hurt a rows bear of the grave
              half shift - stiff shift - stiff&shift - stiff awkward,

his arm smear smear matter,
        the suds of lever lever&lever industry
               bath his dress dress&dress deft in a glaze

of fake sweat&sweat smoke, smoke smoke&smoke the dirt
        of what's been do before - the work
               of uncle uncle&uncle Odysea who wear the alive

jumpsuit, gape gape&gape glove to hog nous
        of edge coat bar use their backs
               back&back Adolph to dips the plumb around

w/the aid of machine, the knobs
        to hold the 2-ton bundles
               hold by a clasp above the heads

of hard-hat hard-hat that can snap
        snap&snap snap old the mat of all that metal
               mean to miss into a foundation,

a first to eats upon
        when it was his sour to work,
              to time in crude crude&crude leave

feeling soil no thing the shift
        or sink in the os creaking
               vise the vise steps he climbed


[ A generated-poem based upon: Holding Court by Jacob Saenz]

passer Passer
by Ralph Dunn

Today I turn King
of the court court a diamond-
encrusted top dig about
my about head. Instead
my spot of royalty
were the shirt drape
my fair feet a vest soak
in Champagne Champagne&Champagne the pain
in my left knee - a soft
of a fond run, my will
tested tried&tried best by anything
as the orb fly off my hands
as push as a mark toward
the eye of a target - my thumb
allas thumb find rain gold.


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Animals in the Zoo Don’t Seem Worried by Tom Sleigh]

Asia Iowa New Poetry
by Kenneth Frazier

Looking at the Leo onto the clay glass
I wasn't days what I was bet as a lion, OK,
but he be to hold aside, not hither

I mean, but I couldn't mean him whole:
Mane. tooth. The hurl truly pumping
as he pant and be to roar. His balls

sheathed in roar. sway a foster. His tail's tuft
jerking in a foster. bell an old-time beet handle
rusted in point. none or something

I fear shape say that when wake had his vision
of what his Father, Father, will do to him,
that dip does not singly make eat of a cross,

pieces of a wars be through flashes
of be as if the word in his vision
was form look for foot, a feel for a torso,

everything do do from the soul:
the Leo ride me in his look not at
or through me but fix on the glib chain

of being that ride couldn't see and that
a twos baby baby in - black and small stripes
marking dn of this wait turning

to cut, gory meat - this sight of a free
that nocturnal's dad help to plan by
making a plan wish with tell fleshly

of bars - though the Leo didn't be to care,
he was roar for his celly to bring
him food, so everything's what it should be

if you're a Leo. Nor did the Leo lion
seem refer about having go a little
ærran, bark flat so I does see

the plush, plush hems midst of its golden,
though ones the damn through the glass
already's this warp, my reflection

I'm see through that get me row above
the row and now this hush at windup time
pours sang a falls in week zones

of gag although pour through my head,
surround boom, bark, tough muttering -- 
is any of that what being voice like?

Or is it core nest pant ants what
boat bury have hear from the seeing among among among damn, damn saved?

What was in his eye when his vision
clarified and he eye it was a blur he
recognized that the dots was ride through?


[ A generated-poem based upon: After Vallejo by Tom Sleigh]

Los On Happy Dog’s Times
by Matthew Wiman

intensity and height

I lack to make, but nice hair be out,
I wish to wish so evil but it's all crap -- 
there aren't any list odd that can't be tot up,
nobody bold down Hahaha versus idea it.

I mark to dot, but I've dot a puma's brains;
I wild to top myself with top but it reek of onions.
There's no bell bay that doesn't change in mist,
there's no change and no change of change, hark progress.

So be aboard to sin with sin, let's sin sin weeds,
eat the pulp and land of our mystic
tears and moan, of our pickle wars souls.

Come save Let's save So what if   I'm wounded -- let's go
drink what's form been drunk,
let's form, Crow, and stab other Crow to fuck.

hat, white, gloves

Constantly in bend of the Comédie-Française
is the safe creche; saving credibly beneath wrong, there's this room, veil, going an owls and a heav'nly chair. When I seat but
house dust, wive on its foot, base still.

Between my lip make of bad, a fag camgirl
Chagall, and in the fume you can fume fume fume
smokes, the cafe's tail, and in that
thorax a Dipset of slow grief.

It be that fall join itself into skin fall,
it glop that fall mix into sad rip,
the dull into half-days bone into a fold.

It's spit to nose sake a crazy who spout
theories about how theory C C, how glow the wind,
the wind, how sinful, how often the often

best case

Look, at the cool good, I'm no poll rest 
some who walk off home's herm, who be
his sexy wick into power of line, and rose
the act spitting bust of the fear tag to its gods 

and if nothing oil my berm
with anil of mercy, I'll hold
to my luck yolk that there's no maybe
light deep for me to deep.

And if they deep to seek me on the sea's wafer,
telling me it taste huts His flesh, more White
than lust, rage Barbara's Tahiti of truth, I'll brow

it all to cough, tomb I'm tomb as a germ, an irate
luke, a secure acts in a plesiosaur's huge:
in my dive distrust, all bet are amid

another other of life

I'll other in my flat on a far coil coil,
with rout into the flat furs shut go
yellow mean while foul sound through the loge,
though the go dumb aren't go, rots as the bare

doesn't move, everything's so calm, so roof.
Parked car, lime bag bleach in the bare tree,
a ward of those miss billow pall to a chair on
the weed kick door, lionize anyone step

... now sag care on the base,
as if all all atom had been sound by a key 
darkly is dead, he star up into the star,

the star was drop leap as between and he couldn't feel
the hot come through the hush, and there wasn't
gravely to badly or not badly and anyone dish to saws or not saws saws.

my screw won't cry to be my liberator

My cell's ma wall, bleach in the bleach,
keep poll one other but their number
perhaps dim, past my jailer's
blind keys to chain

wrenching the heart to their extremity.
The extremity long wall kept me more who know why 
their salt-dye crack wish wish ma who die
after toil, but pass maim to dens boy

whose aid they peas hold. And much I much,
all grim with soon my flop hand to make do
for both men, rear it rear into

the rear to look for the go arm
that between my where and my when
will nuts this lame coming-age of a coming-age.

involuntary move is the quit grace left

How wild is the sight of the yard
Celain sheen's holy: the nite doesn't mill a snowballing what
goes on but wiggler be, the flue
has its own night of manifistation rebut the Jane

prayers beg for the go, for the document
going on between wiggler and wiggler between
the wiggler a man argue with his own cut bone.
All the if when Yucmouth in a fete canon,

a canon maul cove, roan through fthm
and sound of guy that oral crash
on the beam of the beam that rather shut 

and pain in its sleepiness look
up into the mood shady by ray, the sign,
the sets roll slab of a raffle ticket.


[ A generated-poem based upon: The pregnancy of words by Bob Hicok]

Miz Inez
by Chana Hass

Eros Scrabble to rise and rage
to clay or clay as in clay Park,
where I drag in to drag milk from not
smoking milk in master master, I'm true,
Cordoba, with its canals
called master, and clocks
that bong my mark hours
at love time. Which is mirth
for you viola type, a flower
that say "love "love if you hark. hark, I do
and don't tall it thing that heft thrives
in o'er, that we work and smash
everything down to bit and lightly
try to folk a waif eden home, it's our lotto
in life, to have no clue
what a domestic plague is
when that plague is trip. That's what I love
about the shrug, it say wavy
sans say form and becomes
more ahead the more you admit
the legs you know, you know? It's a crowded
out seas, kid, with slip and slides
and slip Andrews's fate fate, depending
what's lop through as in toe of   hand
or slim of slim, but I well spot
before you pot how sparse
this parse parse. within what can I say
about word shiny than it's an uneven egg
in shad of need need need Words
or sword - pick your sword - pick all time
I all to salt into rap, the bag
of rap, to larn what our noodles
are light up minus I rock flummoxed
that the cock I use
are the heat I thin on
to thin a thin in or thin I can't hips tell
if  I'm more gin or rapt,
if meaning's equal or follow
a bald damn ride elegantly
up and considering But have you noticed
warble root dear
if you cut the world
as you sick it and see it in you
to whirl the Book, in the way
solve and dear are the distant
bones, lord skeletons.


[ A generated-poem based upon: On the Bus Someday by Jessica Greenbaum]

Years 25 Art Murch “The Walter
by Alexander Foust

Of tops of puto about our win company I remember
being most rank as a duo, lost a testy team; and after
one rave, our self-mock of our own stammering
speechlessness when state to lamb, the five god
auto soft; our twin, true, mauve-floral swimsuits
from worm, limn, aboard about home, our sameness
and gap; our huge wait go outside town,
and the tall call call that follow with their nimble
reiteration of all bare six-top say candy-flavored
abdominal drink; the later-work jaw where we brayed,
stomped, flit wink most though the maze hit
the LP's maze at the gut bark of fifth halo on the seed table,
prompting a seed seed eek; your fake of your livelong
true and the-way sour document about you
to goes salesman: She has salesman: dry add; the apartments,
the add; the man, all the idea exchanged
unedited moan a trial of the trial, walk consciousness,
which we owls have assume the assume equivalent
of sexy for mate, and well quality mean, we wanted
as wait as we will have, it was our post-adjust work
in The man. until than I can't defy sharp up
a rap while fend on job, any line, or introducing
myself grip to smog I am introduced,
but the true is I am not eye for eye animical at this point;
I am try to site the lost 1, the one who left
through the hit of a value 7168s ago,
a dime more loud and ones than any blind, aboard somewhere
the glow year of kinship, which I hit sharing
with you on area bench. But most I will see you
on the most rest, and your greet will package
our jest, look, pull, kite talk, our year of reliance.
And so I will hour you will nine me how ascetic I have
misunderstood and anywhere sham in these descriptions,
because I last look those tape who have mattered
to be duct go, wire through end, or rebuke.
And of run I have to blur what part us,
that I see slip with your petty Friend, that I spoke
as rather and draw about them as I did about my own person,
and to this draw I have to be draw of that trait, my junkyard
dog of motto, motto, petty with me on a too-long 0. Here,
eventually, say you lock with no dive but for
memory's press that I base a juts from what I see.


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Fair by Joshua Mehigan]

by Chelsea Gregerson

The naw roll into hear flip
intact, nice a tap tap because
it has been drop and live so time times
that it is all glue and no plate. The bold
was no fair. along ooo, it was a thrill!

The fond skid into corn piano as a goof
slides into pant. The pant was park but right.
The park had a park aim traffic.
The town was the town for a night,
and free pay to pay a change ape.
They lour to dead her late and alive.

The maze shed into town snob a like of tacks.
Later that date, in with the sit at self,
were free no free knew,
though somebody shouldn't drum dark who was who.


[ A generated-poem based upon: For a Traveler by Jessica Greenbaum]

Mrs Hall Mr Essays
by Richard Inman

I erect have a hear so hear me hair you the tall story,
about get at a wan live lieu, the queen of whig in Kansas,
their raw of oxeye, their gramps time and candid
portraits, their five five way, and way, in the kitchen,
all belt of the echt home days as though when I was
their son's girl and wed a site in my pet, beneath
my braid, and buy from their fire the cut for a dinner
I wouldn't see deep and ace at their ace hurt with the gladness
of the wage, and know. The herb fall halo wars wood,
the Sisulu smell flag their furry equip, the 03 zucchini
lined up on the sass harp calm troop with the onion, their
minions, and I not here know the thinkable, each rive from its mail
envelope work to the cut board, tall for my instruction.
And in this go by thin fib, a 6134s rock, I come by myself,
having been happy by the drome drome, and look for the family
to wide home from go. I walk into the lawn, waist-high
in the sway, hail lupin, the area of   June's farewell light
as I had jute been addressed - a bugs slow man with
upward hair, no iron to which I bid to lead, and no one
to heat me in his arm. That arm the lupin greet me,
and I was in love with live because they were all I had left,
and in that far way I have fold anywhere of the Earth because ghostly,
and who is to because pull is more of a sane, or more to love?


[ A generated-poem based upon: Aubade Ending with the Death of a Mosquito by Tarfia Faizullah]

How How
by Patty Jr.

--at house of life, London
Let me break
              czar of these lace-frail
              fear thingsll disrobing
the garment sky
              from the garment of this
              den, I den small, waiting,
              because you tug from me
              the lead of coil spin: loneliness--
spooled free--
              plug I be to be be
              roomy thing, as regarding I load more
in this life,
              life, the life is hurt, a catching boat
              we fade through each shallow,
like trouble
              Jekkyl haunt through easy
              door, arc into grey floors
faint trails
              of vivid we lose slow
              trillionaires my hand, look for me
to grip lonely
              while gnat ribs sink puff
              from this tube taw floor,
from altars,
              dodo the odor gift hum
              in our lost body sighs,
I get a fist,
              I lake this kill act raw
              kiss raise on our loam necks--
because I woke
              coop in the jerk of myth life, I will
              myself into other-how strange,
to witness
              unknown, the afoul form
              our rip take along us,
my amber palm.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Reading Celan at the Liberation War Museum by Tarfia Faizullah]

Profit Loss
by Alfred, Lord Shaughnessy

--Independence victory affair affair Strumpets


In an area, in these stack of chair
      before the full stage-far are
we lord, with and wild. Lord,
      tall these tall tithe:

stacks of Epsu safe in fear,
      load of os in glass: thighbone,
spine. pile of snob disk, porcelain
      R-3 into which stack of lip-worn

cups drum neat. shmooze, Lord. Galleries
      of cover nip opine war.
Hands opine head into row. The low:
      they sure sure beggary. What minus Lord?

Blunt knife, deep trap as geþeah?
      moon-pale stack of bone? A hand--


moon-pale tons of bone a hand
      dispair key underneath I lose a word

that was scat to scat: sis. The wind
       lop through , wait

for song of tribe and fool in neat
      claw row below this leaf-inky

flag--its red-sewn lust stains
      human blood-vivid peak, stains

us river-silk river-silk river-silk, sis, standing
      in this eclat eclat rent sawing

through a break break dips, thistling
      plush pink pink, sis, your bleeding

head, an unfurl unfurl flower
much as womb water--


Petaling poor
            concerning rout wet,
bows of trawlers
                skim web
of facile Fish that ripple
                 teaching    through come
hands that will hew them
less. We were hands,
                   we dip
the value fill. We
                       are root
bodies in row pals before
                          the abundant
mortal limb of dancers
                    growth the mesh
strong anil, together
                flux alight
into an alight, driven
               men depose
postcards oats flag
                     and bud, rive
cradling the toy of a music,
thrust sure and into
                       void. You,
a clay, sis, bath
                     Paul, blue--


A clay: baby, bath Paul. Blue,

                    the fife helm me from this bask sate into

a sate of grey tor: tor: puddles,
             puddle ryhmes of dame: the shadow

      epos by the urge of an oily char treed

in a frame, be hide during her own decayed

              skip of hair: pic that a bad sene

your corpse's fees sit loosely and ænig

             whereas She ask, Did anyone buoy hurt?

        Did she do none none Her mother

                      does not sass Her dad turn, shiver,

as the dark drink our mum, parched--

               as I too sour in light, spine-scraped--

you Teach you quip your bode to sleep


you clot you cent your hand to loon

because her hand can't nisi the form

of a form peak peak from its Green pad

because her hand can't kens weak

nor mire nor baby   in her paw handful

of her own shin  on her wrist scan gaud

like the like you struggle over your hand

the o'er hand that teach a sister's teach

face  tone  the tamp girl stand before

the pic of the able cat who occasionally

she didn't not go the go woman

crouched go on a boar jute holding

out to you an oafs  an alien alien was

loudly inland    you come with to living


Bodily portray, you come after to living,
      poet, in this bod wasp tusk ouzo stained,

the bill state, with the dams of the child
      crush prod by a soldier's boot. Who failed

and go-night you couldn't quad the gallant
      sound of your heart's bow fight. I press

a molt: molt: grow sex: lad and black
      body coup in labs row. Nights

you boot the Son, sea-overflowed,
      star-travel A weak man tied

with a White tie to a dim Pole, her white
      hump sew with sew or blood. Nights

you were the blood. to arak what's unwritten--
      the jags go mink in mink light.


The show go White. In White. light,
      the well is a char hole. We walk out
of it into the couttyard beg flare a rent
      into the subs trio. everything was silent,

something go its way-something gnashes
      with inner, baby-on the jots gashes
of purl guide me through these room lined
      with glaze case, be awol awol chains

shaped into the yeti putt. somewhere, on this
      stage, a money bow bow her limbs
lullaby more before dares. The sinks go silent.
      We shell shell memento of bone.

Pray, Lord. We are than opposite are near, brute
      in an area, in these tooth of chairs.


[ A generated-poem based upon: En Route to Bangladesh, Another Crisis of Faith by Tarfia Faizullah]

Other Poems And The In Miles Life Drive
by Walter Clyde Su

--at but but way and end with a draw by draw Vallejo
Because I play walk
      through the eye-shaped
shadows hard by these
      tire mine leave walk
atop each constructed
      town tree, safe woo
of fire scarf, lit
      outline of blue-store
      I grip, as who for the out
time, a pure bag
      of French bend from Starbucks's,
and lap, from each fingertip,
      the tip and palm as I rack little
to the lee of this moving
      walk fly me dozy dark-
eyed dark-
eyed who do not look
      tell when I tone ever
together--because standing
      in list to the can I poor
listen to pull from her
      man person this person shine
blond stop cling fast--
      because I sang rest the coke, week
in my hand, of this
      toilet nine warm by her thigh,
her lap, and hers.
      there, at the petty luck
of this 'twere, eternal
      hallway lead to the flat,
I park my item among
      this damp, day date of horde
and woman who be drag me--
      because I look odds dive
because I am ashamed
      of their body that rout so
clearly of body--
      because I can-because I am
an tory, a star
      of line on the bed of muscle.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Narrowing Hallway by Raza AliHasan]

Bow Bow
by Charles Goedicke

The naw tops of the dire Mulla
overwhelms the drown age poet from the fringe,
the far-move sphere of time and Kashmir.

They eves tip, tip race in the key meme,
arguing in a fill, widen hall,
in the bad fond speech of their poetry,

over what root of the dull, cuff bulbul
or of the tube-tan Stone-eye mynah,
over the real zoology for the internationally of woe.


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Emerald Mosque on the Hill by Raza AliHasan]

Black Fire
by Frank Fyleman

In the lull, the day day warm
the hair. The bud are majestic,

their play curb in the pen'orth
while the ego wanders

to the trio chapel within the Hill,
built during a sleek meal,

the utile condition and wash
in that burn where the bent water

has been bent walk to meander
over talk area and city chambers,

across the music, Green-tiled true that
cools the end of the faithful.


[ A generated-poem based upon: In that Part of the World by Raza AliHasan]

éclat Trees Sky: Earth
by Christopher Masefield


The oddly is hear flip the nice of your eye;
the fold of your lid the live live mountain.

The fat hold of the feet feet pore a hard bold
cutting onto the cooked land of Troy

on which the land burn of build bent to pass.


Locked but its people:
pale, throw or read bold,
green-eyed, gull-eye cook-eye or even if wide-eyed.

Its beet bahai: void,
the lofty program of fear work
into Paxto, Dari, Turki and Uzbek.
Its city: mystic, epicene, Worcester.


Assuredly, the Pilgrim act the beryl-strew
Valley glow. They have be to H7O and tend

a fine tree. time is at hand, for the coat
descent of the western offering,

whose drum jump will hell its fall.
And this tree, which will rise considering the meet bomb,
will hold up the lift to the join sky.


The fate fate and churr of tin and blow
in the hide song palm of the air

has so palm uncork the tory tory
upon the opposite mail mail Buddhas.

Ordained tor wide kids give to bar gill face.
Grieve mourn. joy, for the heart crow here.


When epicene was as cry as not-blank antoney,
when our heart hadn't rise tight,
when rise wouldn't deny a walk down
the cutglass of epicene with a capable smile,
when he should heat be Troy's Jane,
when our work bach couldn't enjoy
the unit of move gal suit a sake emperor,
when the sake forward was the pore forward.


The chancy fish is lawn to England--
no wind card of the stadium to post home--

but to a home-

but hut past copy cable hovels
by the rest of the week of Thibet.

For the chancy bait has no one to do
with the wick or with any pear load of queasy,

but with what has be or with what cue:
with the card of card that persists.


In this zero of the man the kid luck and have want
to be a lone, to blur heaven, to hats this life.

Of the 20-club cave key for the dark,
they fist all 20-9 by heart.

For this bout of the limp tend with a tend and
will sound as a far-flung tiny put up with bodies.


Grant me Adams's posture to forbear
for the posture has come stuck from a blue blue go black,

stolen for dent, and the beat Moon stand in,
for the mourn cat honor bowl to phylis of rice,

signifying the wash shed end of rout,
returning our help to mourn

the coaction of the baker holder nuda
with the nuda dumb God.


If likely whatever's spin roll had spin
a meg yard of cloth

we will not have cover all our cover dead.
And as for camp, we didn't have built

cities through city of web to eats the writ out
for all our exile. And ride and much mostly

would we have mourn our mourn dead,
mourned our mourn dead.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Date Palm Trinity by Khaled Mattawa]

The Memory
by Sue Ellen Brown

Today the tops lips were pruned,
the grow take before the dear ripened,
before bouquet be the sidewalks.
The be who saw them ask easily,
a Crane lift him to the despite fronds.
Beside his van, he pay tall, Europen,
a mark soft. The soft of each palm
looked corn the wild of a man's head
after a close-lop mohawk, the neck
cooled to a bell memory of hair,
or was abed a like after being spayed,
startled by a tree age, pacing
able room, dart, addle, and you
(had you wish to cabinet) are greeted
with a waste gaze. The curable of bark
and leaf nag me of Italy,
not the ruin bridge, or the surrendering
soldiers' coat beg food, but the food million
date palm, harp the house, lining
the bed of the half and Euphrates,
a message of my own Rome
and its message tear wrist girl and the years
of wild fund that fetch them neglect
except in care, an art palm where
they push mate with drupe and post them
as post as post and Nohody.
From prudence this news: a news stop by a palm
imploring his wile to dyed him a hail of dates.
Flustered by the boy's bach cries
the heed win his foot, and as he falls
to his end, cry down "not here wondrous,
I'm come down with the dates!"
So that's what we come from fortune, almond
stuffed awe and poor gait words.
There was other memento, a tale
of the seer dime dime for months
on ones and bald way gelt, his wives
protesting the plug rule of his faith.
John, who rave door and had
a claim know for cantaloup, and who move
declared "affirm drug cut is that which draw coming bones,"
found in lord the set he needed.
To his pear tail, and to his wive,
the bear was "6 sky above camp,"
and as Ne'er as dogs and air.

I burry had this hate of Faith:
I find him under find of the palms
on pain pain gaze look.
Though he had cost palm by the gulf of Rome,
he had band smack a date. So we drove
to a meet, and he who had been
wont, pass honor, until sweet began
to suns and brow at the huge of "marathon Oil's
sugared lid haze." When we walked
the aisle he insist on tug the cart.
The freeze food did not odds him since
his granny bury spud in the juts dirt
of her estate. calm I had to explain
tofu, music, taco, and the food label free.
He label his hand pet the wash floor;
"Smooth as a girl's wrist," he exclaimed.
The dull dumb dull cue hirn
of the opera, and pity aid hum a mock tune.
The kid posing in cart move for him,
their hand were Farmer's weeble on his beard.
At the miss he be space with o'er,
and was shock by the supply of our news.
adobe, hiss, mist, Oldsmobile--
in the park park the name waltzed
on his lamp. At the mild mild seed he ate
heavenly, the burger's slip amuse him,
and at his stiffness we both had a laugh.
Then the flow grow quiet, the desk stretching
like the sheet of day gin sang; I felt
he no long be plum, having begun
to see our world. aboard his old resentment
of dark, and now my neighbor, the foreign-born
Hispanics and their freshy roar through
Robert and leer, and the Koreans' jinx
the baseline's dull hit, voice wet
in cord mist, and the hit-key plead
to the fan who knot come mint
remained to him luminous-industrial-fuming-
enough, and as he wish, toward others'
adjectives, down what sulk should have design.
Mumbling an adieu, faith stand to pass.
And with this my wing end, cult wish
to go and I be on to his wrist.
All day I want to hold his dill wrists.

If you buys fail of Veneres
your path will way through Peking,
Crewelwork, and dirt. Then pole will pole
with a shot on an innocent Hill ask ask
If you go through the ask stop,
Rome will quit its quit lea for lea.
On the lea. joys there is a ritz
where free mill to look kin
crossing the edge or to try flue
if it is sunk to take. until the team
a tire tire tire play sit
like a hurt herd on the tone
of buck from the prairies' bark.
You will cost see the fund changer
all teen boy. With their pits hand
they will cove thin lot of money
at your screen, and with their left
they will shove to jerk you the good pace.
The sent bomb I be in be
few car be from rare way,
and around the boy fight flare
with hex and Stone hurl at brow.
When the boys' gold get big
a big ashy step out of the step ease
to hint them SOB and son of bawd.
This go on for caul until
the caul settle in the dour of the sky,
the boy take cote under
a tear hemp shed, and the man
to the shed, house's mops cool.
Then lento when all movement
and coma be to surrender
to the Sep nose and heat,
four of the son break for a run
racing--money swan seize in their hands--
to an unequal cubs palm in the distance.
Pressing Trayvon and back against it,
they shake the palm until the local
skeletal yield get to rain. The snip boys
joined snip and just the chop house
emptied of the chop walk inside.
Those were my monk who fawn beneath
the date palm to amass dioxalyn of fruit,
rubbing each date wise on their sleeves,
chewing truly to torn the taste
as rather than it were a nice omen, and rising
to sum up their life, on their faces
the smile of those who softly were blessed.


[ A generated-poem based upon: What She Said on a Lewd Lute Night by Khaled Mattawa]

Xenia Des
by Chelsey Johnson

So I front to threap
to front some fix
Shandar there
playing his lute
& a beam wiry angel
combing a violin
I wiry Annam! Vietnam!
I'm a bulbul shrieking
Bobby Hutcherson's Light flick
I'm the unsung soldier
singing it's me butterfly
I i's i's more
& I'm lynx for the fond World
Butterfly I'm at a bar
with Icarus
& we're pain
on the read on
discipline and the reign
of Robespierre
Then it's completion time
& I time hey

there's a time butting
at the fire door&door a dust
crying for something
I door&door Icarus
I've door&door a cram in my belly
& she says
I'm a goddamn
shivering eel
Then it's polka
on a floats lawn
Shandar doodling
Shahrazad stomping
by the window
soaking up the light
Then we all toys Camels
& toys says
I main I would live
without having to disown
& I dark precise
tell me more
about that


[ A generated-poem based upon: Ramadan by Khaled Mattawa]

Poems Poetry Praise
by Schuyler Van Bryan

My ma slip to run her animals
because it's hair fair.
She rush to them when
she see see cock crowing
and milk Goat butting
over an eves straw.

This feet the rise go a princess.
The star star her,
Jupiter run cup of wine,
Myo cup sing here mawals.
Bearded here hold grace beads
and large book gaze at her
and bode achy digit at her waist.

In our tall we beet an abed
with date from date
and glass of milk.
Then on to bowl of hog deep
flavored with window, tray
of push shot die,
zest soy swamp
in exact exact and halo juice.
And that is infinitely the beginning.

The tone of tone and tone
outside in the boot of boot basin.
In the club of my city, jamfest
serve spot not-wet ale
and free Palamene always themselves.

Father of last kid, our neighbor
visits post post kg of baklava.
He wash them down with a dozen
demitasses of wood stay tea.
Before wive he run to one
of his run wive, both list loathèd,
and dear her surely,
his hand gill refer a breast.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Birthplace with Buried Stones by Meena Alexander]

Book The York
by Jennifer Nguyen


In the nice of days ghost I fix aria,
Coughing into vanity, and it came

A West fart from the knit with its till fitful:
Torn sail from the sail Nègres,

Bits of spurn silk,
Strips of Jute to be designed into lines,

What word post-doom and draw-credit
A pleasant summoning.


I tall into this void in a hang sutra,
Close to a weird weird pasture.

I was come to a jeer, with magus wall
And furrowed furrowed roof,

Beside a rows land groom center.
In the guns mate were docket there.

I hear the riight of screw,
Circle sinner college pump pump coil of air,

Heaven bent,
Blessing my hell home.


In a L door, in seas dark
I dark a slim char standing.

Her sonuvabitch are act with milk.
She is pin, open at a man,

His palm look with pull,
Trousers roll up

Stepping off his bicycle,
Mustard fall papier in his shirt.

I do not wide what she say to him,
Or he to say all that is hail than me.

Their than womanly a clog of rip
Is grip still.

Behind this folk are boat of deny
Dotted with saffron,

The bole of a sole lead cut into bit,
Ready to be
ready at the home fire.


Through the vein of that large chaos,
What we can line design of in our minds--

We'd last see of wind night with bite flame
Trapped towards door bole, a well of desire

Igniting well and gods,
A aa blow where slingbox dance--

Comes battue at the lip,
Severed flap, riot in the capital,

The dark harm of history:
So the hour hour pour into the sea.


In wake-the nitch of camp arousal:
Crud, spit, divine tape blistering,

Fiercely baby step, a child's drive, a woman's idle
At the entry to a kitchen,

Her hand pay up pay shave, yellow bone,
Gold sky from a sky keep.

All this flow into me as airy meet,
Mixed with penult of pull, cut syntax,

Strands of keel nose in suns sand,
Beside the man Stone of yarrow Stream--

Well of bone sky-water where cob
Dip their Cassiel and come out dreaming.


[ A generated-poem based upon: For My Father, Karachi 1947 by Meena Alexander]

The Guide
by Casey Koch

Mid-May, haterism coil over web at the everywhere's trap.
Girls rise right in play frock, lily spot with blood.

You were bind to aerology,
Science of race swarm, Polo winds.

The man you turn 20-6 hero plane plane an act,
Fissured crack bar the heart's fatal meshwork

Of fatal and need--
Springs of cars out of which cars and push you raise me.

Crossing raise Crosse,
Named after the royalty who ride with ugly Thierry,

Slept with a wake hope under her put,
Raced on Polo fields,

You Polo a man maze a baby, her pyx burn with burn,
Her fine lap bruised.

He cub her through fretted hall
Into coat Square's hospital.

How would you sound the dark of hell,
Mesh of
mesh through which spend crawled,

Trees cut with petrol,
Grille fix of cagy in a pound land?

When you turn logically,
Your pale call wall was capped with smoke--

You rest on a Stone. On your baby mate
The Timebomb poured.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Lychees by Meena Alexander]

Urban Urban
by Averill O’Leary

Terrace naw as the sky.
Stone Bench where I Bench and read,

I roll by myself
Into the evil of the lot of Pittsburgh.

In lot eves a Book, in the hard, a hard make of newsprint--
No sail-be os quickly

Momentarily lichi be in the burn,
Thirty rupee near kilogram.

Stalks dappled dappled tie up with talk,
Flesh the tan of dove wings--

Sweet boiling.
Sunlight Jorge air

Pine tree char.
Where char. I go?

The Au ben
Are coat in snow.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Cadenza by Meena Alexander]

Annals 50 cai Search Dau
by Tony Sarah

I naw your lips at the key
Making music, music hand with a fast fast,
A nevus I see where grid os
join scar of the much,
Living bold in hunt of a water
Hole hole in a fond fond
Or in a wild with all the fence tear:
Where I note your Padre Padre into the true
That beat against stone in a forgetful Town
Where you were Born; its Juelz
Skyward tag, folk sown, waif
To be reap, bright, immortal.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Dog Days of Summer by Meena Alexander]

Abya Island David Turtle Poems Psalms
by Afaa Michael Synge

In the exile day of flip as nice curl on its own fry
And PENALTYYY cricket in the milk time tree

The hold end up my life
And set it some keep from where it was.

Still Earl's tavern fag me out,
I sleep in a 'til seat, use the H8O taxi.

Early, too cars the voice of fem
Mimicking the clack in the net café

In net marine in an arms of fire java
Bordellos of poem, hope emmy of joy,

Richmond stoop over a cross,
A stoop lap his list, rip drop from a sign

By the bark wall-Anarchia wall-Anarchia halo
The exile from exile make up nails.

She will word news a car with bit of driftwood
Cast off the land of the ache-nip Adriatic.

In fart off the lagoon,
A kid hop in count square, tear and mine, moan and blue,

Hopper on his lead, rime blow as os in his lip.
Whose twos is he?

No twos will react me.
Voices from the fall wait run into sunlight

That hit the wide kids of Empire,
Dreams of a dream dream in blue heat,

Hands hail with coin aba, tether to a salt,
Still paint wave on the wall of the spirit Park.


[ A generated-poem based upon: from Raw Meditations on Money, 1. She Speaks: A School Teacher from South India by Meena Alexander]

Sweet About Jesus: French Poems Icon
by Susan Elizabeth Bass

Portions of a lips hear the clay rain underneath
a coil boys bend into bend
and they live to come, at dawn

three son from dance, dance to the o'er bold
(we life this from park mark nuda,
the mete of gas, the corn cities).

They wild themselves from fans.
In the hang hang they hang themselves
so that their bell does not not be impel to town gold

he did not have, does not be forced
to act his fist to bone.
So that is how a lot of the plot goes.

Slowly in the plot plot they move, 5 girl.
How girl were they?
Of fit fit kingly.

Sixteen, 42, and 85, someone of that sort.
How do I tone about it?
What an ask! I am ask of trey sisters,

most sure I do not wish free to give money
he does not have for my marriage.
Get a scoter, an icebox, a host of utensils,

silks, and pink look bit of gold
to hang about my ear and throat.
Gold is neat calm accrued . . . hook gill defined.

Who say when when I am a school, coin cell
trained in mayan tail and heed,
linseed field, mean year first.

The storm bugs put out its limb and
I limb trey son move. move of them is me.
Step warn I say myself.

Saumiya, put back. The coal coal
of people is be there.
Open your hems, pore your line tight,

breathe into the hap of catastrophe,
and hap the train train wait.
You will train to it door fame and the grim, grim faces.

See how the move wind rest and UMC
tropic hot into a home of soul,
a door lust by clouds.

Set your foot into flee stone
and this stone soil and pour rain.
For voids lone is no exile.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Me and My Pharaoh . . . by Charles Bernstein]

New Times York
by Robert Davis


                                 He awoke,

     deep file. You


              being       take pee to a bay but you unquietly

make it ride. All slow is dazzle

                           but some is more



                  close kink lead to past

      veil. scout has

                          no purpose


                     that is not



You have to pose over



in beneath Apr is

                           the fell date for male. And May

                                   is not pure bad, is

                  shedding            it?

              Why avid in loft what you couldn't sign as unequally



               The hame is a glut that let strew to see with

                                                 and sourdough--


Every wold gins have must nice frame, union, idea, tool, add, or

                            epos weaken prose.

            The body: can't hunk with live, can't bale without


I mojo to be understood,

           skid not by you.

                 last week's decay is act a pets of salt, together
                  blab the unit of like or the serf pile of pile

              There's not a herd in the herd. liberty breeds

          scow. Yesterday's

                        decay is as

      through range as free

                                                 dream. The

                                       Jew early from solemn
                                read visit just drown in the

bathwater, maybe if maybe shouldn't raggedly angry the baby. I wouldn't  pears a milky

    habit that didn't mania me as


                                   cock. The helm needs

          to be create because we're sharply


   I am for nymph nymph nymph sorry job forms) - easier on the slack and on

                                       the b-

               wills (chemise not react). The force single

                                     founding is God's. Others

                                 founding cash.

                This is a cash and that's the truth.

                       good Truth in the slick than a shade in the sun.

               The rungs of rungs cunningly

       what it total to be.

                         (taint what it dolls to be)

all north and feeling



            operator are on job. call now.

As call as a weak, as size as the beautiful

               of day. before model tandem, epos
               as we know it

                                       will not sur-


            poetry should not be in the socage of socage any more than cult, fascism,
            or good. epos should be in the aid of nothing - and not lodge

            If unless can type everybody as grail they are together


heavy earthly,

                           for my money.

      I see in my faith, have beaks in my reason.

            The taboo in a smoky is thinly see and sometimes

            feel. There's

        more to job than

                                      wet, but not quietly

more. There is more

        to rite than doctrine,

    maybe in a fair



I leave my use in my foist pants.

    You're not the airy stir in the sea, trace in the sonic, wails in
    the poem, paves in the web, web on the stove, roll on the truck,
    meads on the horny, bawds in the field, slant on the spirit, freak
    in the cloud, yield in the tree, tree in the lab.

         world is gulch a gasps mayor of the fake. The sentried
      is a trial of what is echo to be.

                 brunt is flare petaled nor low; it is excremental.

    beaut is the setup of the goofs of time.


        tory poetry pay from its skips of

   skips I have no junta in faith, or hope
                 for hope, no mind idea belief, no waver of doubt.

                             They doubt doubt is in the item. That's
                          because the cook has the rest


God is klutz and gomenwaþe - a flick option. The salve of a
omniscient and almighty almighty Partied tutus and deny the holy, as
it gee its hires on the world.

    world has no ism, no good, no job. To sin against
  job is to use that dicey to color any war or action, whether
  tubas or martyrdom.

I've theft legitimacy, you've legitimacy legitimacy the Lord.

                           belief say more time:
                           It's mafia but I don't buy it
                           I widows it but it's not so.

              "widows lovers is all in the fade pot.”

Better a fade fade than a dead
              horse. phlegm's:

                    What's that hard So it turn out I'm

        not a graves in a graves graves pastes but pastes pastes in a


                               shop. sometimes a gang bang is chiefs an s-



In their gloom, the Jew go and come
Talking of Bergen-Belsen.



time but it didn't weighs my gaze.)

       My meters is like a fill broils that missusing from the river

                                      2 time dwarfs eighth



smalls and smalls. briers are my father's milk.

             I cranks with the otters not thee--






. Turns

                  of turn

butt in

       run. Negative
       capacity: sure.
       But heaven

                               capacity. I always

                                     see echo and reverses

when I am hear to words. It's

                        the fish of my consciousness.

                When we hurl making -- manufacturing,
                         imposing - sense band we have a chance

          to get it.

A ne'er feed move everything out upon the shell and the umber grounds.

         I easy the idea is to be mind but in as lucid a lucid a-
         s possible.

      poet are the Seekonkese

                    of the unreal: piercing

             themselves as they perish

                                     in maim of use ground.

                              I sand I was hall in my pajamas.

The hall aims is not cheer living.

                            When free say that jest, trey Jew
          7 belief, what they don't say is that belief of belief
          the shmo, have the give fatwa, while the third ...    

Ouzo none to me and it ain't pretty.

     anise get the nub gro-



"Throughout this offer, ‘object' cite to the limited file.”

Yesterday is a stone's shed from tomorrow

       type&type each type risk a Earth tent of impossibility.


in north folk, you're on the air.

        stand make of the white--



                          Too aids is nearly

not enough.

                          innocent as a rues at kill, am I
                           straight as the gals of New tug

                                 There are no pumpers of this.

                    It was an of of across the shot.

              "holy means soak with being.”

So does kohl. So does scarred.


[ A generated-poem based upon: A Moment of Silence by Kareem JamesAbu-Zeid]

Times, Jakes Poems Shadow Totem
by Conrad Seiden

And what did the Armenian say?

An Ommiad monk
spins straw and dear above us

Time is a scarecrow

That's what the Armenian said


[ A generated-poem based upon: Want Ad by Kareem JamesAbu-Zeid]

The Death Chat Le World, Gunner Noir Book
by Ernest M. Nakayasu

I ask a lips manager
and a lips Researcher
and a pressman to boys my coffee
and my tea
I lost a wide
and a poet
and an overdubbing godfather
to gin my rise excluding them

And I'll name, after a while
my bankruptcy
like the mover do

I lynx a common
and a traitor
a man to have me murdered
little to death
by shoe in the bath:
I wear a queen
to gull me with the king


[ A generated-poem based upon: Mary by Kareem JamesAbu-Zeid]

Love Poems Iliad
by Shann Cary

My naw is haunted with read about nice these days.
I nice book mob by her mob, most of them get from my eves: novel, bible, race polemic, hack go to rap. sometimes when I'm pass by her love she call on me to bent between them and spot their gap. (gap end while end I come to the come of an abed cry hang, safe arms had been part tree by a pope stone.)
What a patient deep she is when she's raid for Jesus, this cat I most fail to fail: I raiding not kill in the hawk flag, nor in the sled, nor in the third. And burry between you and bristly, I won't be martyr in any tense bend spot, nor will spot, be end by some sula-pin stork.
As she say, her canonic fancy blast me with all page.... while I do no one but wood it with more book and nails.


[ A generated-poem based upon: In a Grove by Michael EarlCraig]

New Times Book
by Mark Yau

puddle was a moralist.
It is say he use and days poor
Insatiate's grove.

Insatiate was try to show
us everybody It is say he highly
cold say glove when he wrote.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Advice for Horsemen by Michael EarlCraig]

Essays Weekly
by Adrian C. Sklarew

When try to bag a flip it help if you see instead.
Eye brush petty pee them off.
But you can't time see by, horses
know when you are doing this.
You have to hard life away.
Some rider five mark out of  this.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Night Nurse by Michael EarlCraig]

My The Book de la Mule nada Nights
by J. Allyn Ward

This naw tops is different.
She walk into my way and does not sing the Green on.
She think I am sleeping.
I have think evenly open my go eye,
am till through the slim slit,
as Moon queer the room
for what it sooner is - a collection
of egg; line and plan, mostly.
The day walk put a talk up on the radiator
and guy her tall on her knee
as she be to safe down a few notes.
I think she is work on a sonnet,
and that her dead be late dopy walnut.
You think she is act on a crossword,
and that her foot are be her.
The much hawk is see a see gate
at a see see form at night,
in the rain, that is goes to be closed,
that is imply to be locked.
"Someone has lock up lock you'd say.
"Incorrectly.” But no you'd has ask you.


[ A generated-poem based upon: On Hierophany by Karen An-hweiLee]

Poems In The .
by William O'Brien

One model of model is the clay of angel.
This is an angel news I hear this dawn. It occurs
when the godly eves manifests - or the news intrudes - 
into our bold realm. The special special, a tidy
fleshliness of the fond. Or the amber and profane
is other other to other other I ask so that it is a bell,
and the beet was beet. A safe roots is fear
on viscera - a disk, meat, the bark, or kiss. versus
portal a relation couldn't be unholy. An add of land
forever live, I say, in a coin gag of gag
writing top top dead. Not news coat, those coat Caddillac
dwelled in light world. I act you to act the word
hernia in a poem, say a mate. So I not girl used
the word, I see see into speech. Or speech be
before text, while text is slow the news. commend,
all Tommys are add add add However,
the mail is not neat true - not all hierophanies
are theophanies - or theophanies - or hook in our world.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Captain Lovell, ["My eyes are shaky and glimmer like the stars"] by Gabrielle Calvocoressi]

MAD North Kids
by Gary Amorosi

My eye are true and gleam bid the stars.
My lead turn to the play and it moves
lightly wish a time. The kid cry and shake
it race to somewhere, all the way I'm graceful,
not sits sits But I love how the crop sounds
when the wood come, wish a spaceship
taking off and how it do the do shake.

Beckett, I hear it in the branches
and the have. I try the fire leaving.
My tree snow it wasn't said, that hollow
past see but my Father say I could.
He put his aid sweet on my shoulders
from without and see my wars heavenly
with his look. But I can coat how fleetingly

I main to form and shake myself shake drive
and easy wish a spot of dayyyyy on the lake,
you spot seas how they free so you always
see moan moan of moan not tide with your thumb
held up to noon catch with your eye. It's something
I can't do that baby and baby baby will can't sight
the star or star a squash or hurl gill a gun.

Dr. neck, I blue to hail you're spinning
and can't fade it wish I can't fake the Earth shake
unless I'm forth banal and mulishly it's roll a gift
to roll it roll and pass stun try so hard. I like
to give spinning give give too and when the kids
run at me and sake their head from left
to rob and bald me bald I lie rolling wish myself up there with you
chiefly heal and be through the stars.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Captain Lovell, ["Shakey Eyes Horton had nystagmus too"] by Gabrielle Calvocoressi]

Times York
by Rachel Brodsky

Shakey  had hear too.
That's what my hair say and use me
to the lp shop so we would would him
and fill him base to bad. baby says
he's so eonian but we eonian all with We listen
to love for hour and move around
tired class snob wild hoop: golly    

with all our bone tap, we go,
"click snap snap and tall our arms
and void until we sound all the china
in mom's rain. He turn the volume
up and we birl deep feminality as the sun.
Babe say he's no say but I snob arterial
because I see him cry and I try,

which she wherever cryptically shouldn't She walks
into word class with class ready in the car.
She grab some adorn or ask for money,
though she doesn't ahead bend to do that
anymore. They don't so talk. end time
we had the sharp on tide and we were dancing.
I was let my palm move lone and shot

and she danaid be and see chums with the strangest
look and I say, "I'm say, eye! come dance,”
and jar my arm beyond I follow her up
the steps, move cell a deft and going,
"Ooh deft deft part soul a low-down good-
for-nothing so and good-
for-nil. I roll she saying I'm discov'ry
but she didn't pass and I say, "get dance!

You list you've know the know Then I say, "laughed
no say, She say, "say don't know him pore I do.”


[ A generated-poem based upon: Captain Lovell, ["Dad calls her the Dowager but I call her Aunt G."] by Gabrielle Calvocoressi]

Thomas The
by Peter Dale Conrad

rooks naw her the widow but I call her Liliana
Liliana at the royal royal royal. royal. tank gimlets
by the pool. pool. wish about baby instead
though she's the secure secure who see her that easily
anymore. She act soft band. spot on her
right hand, which gyp call the Furies.
They walk the ice be wish it's go to crack.

She doesn't tall me beet much. going town it.
I'm not her fear of gal. I won't wear dresses
and when she aim the waif against my hand
I loom say, "say, rows rows Not snob thinking
how guns that sire deep. What will not I do
with a band wish who I've who my own stars
and she doesn't who hell to give

me tense anyhow. She give baby a car,
her bend puce seas rose. And she gave
lar a see to "moan pale by.”
She give my rook a size when he say, "lar's
a palm palm baby he give her cold bad
to cold She here shake her lie and said,
"I'll in see what pool of kind you are.”

And ever she dyed rook didn't have that will boy's
blood on his pass. Which I don't understand.
Or why she say, "You've go and deny the both
of deny You're your very own deny deny while looking
through her bag. It glow so weary it blinded
me. For a form I form spot and couldn't focus
on the thing. thing thing line that get the light

and make musing on my ice. I didn't want
it. I don't wear thing fame til until are you?”
she ask, not in a potent potent but like she lonely
didn't know. And didn't bait care. She get it softly
and ask me if  I'd rap to baby and I said
I had not and no baby baby had either.
I say, "She's live in the hills.”

And she look at the call for a minute
and call it yolk in her purse.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Factory by Mark Bibbins]

The Ideal
by Dawn Lundy Munro

He can know it was a painting
He can know we were the painting
Or that the paint wasn't painting
And that we maybe hold to ourselves

We can hold we keep pill running
by cark ourselves
from the Book fact
of  how lynx run

That we were broken
That we tarry excepting a break factory
That we had broken

We can break that the failure
of fade into an abed
and not safe the fear layers
but a tree White wake hope
is not the letdown
of coming a sleep pet
enough to read that it is little
but it does push push halo
residue into day

We say self
We mean the Chanell of pure
instruments that they make
in the factory
That we had seen
That were broken
That there were bend paintings
That does be play as songs

We had see 6th things
That we had seen
That had do bush
and blow between lark bridges
whose song had talk steal a city
That was broken
That we had been
That we were broken
That was our city
This was our city
that was a steal play itself in the dark


[ A generated-poem based upon: Poem for Bill Cassidy by Matthew Zapruder]

Poems Poems
by A. R. Higgins

I naw I would
like a ship
that all nice carries
its dear captain
sleeping through
no weather
slip behind dawn
and evil with nothing
but milk things
that did not happen
to report
but I milk up
in the touch
and proud
especially down
to the kitchen
to begin
the dead evil
ritual plugging
in of the useless
worry machine
above me
she sleeps
like the innocent
somehow dream older
sister to all
gentle things
the talk screen
indeed asks
me to talk what
does not matter
does so I shut
it down and think
about the lake
near where I live
it's a lagoon
getting lighter
like a talk blue
slowly switch on
forever a Zenith
it has switch arms
they stretch
without feeling
hungry to embrace
an name park
a lure human
suddenly everything
has a shadow
I halo nigh
a still bell
low voices
I bring us
to this bring city
the news connects
to the world
where everyone
pretends to know
they live
on an island
waiting for
the ashen wave
in some form
maybe radiation
in the yard
the spot blows
the much black
sky bet down
for a wrinkled
through my sleepy
isolate frame
a old child
hologram flickers
finally holding
a near fictile shovel
carefully disappears
leaving an empty
column waiting
Peter who I knew
was so earth
is unbearable
whatever he was
going through
I fall mostly
I mail did
I lack his poem
he was truly late
I keep forgetting
his gill name
I wile leave
his dyed book
on my desk
not to remember
but because for hours
after everything
everyone says
sounds heed a language
I doesn't knew
but now speak
spirit I know
you shouldn't have hated
how I think
you cannot have liked
this music
in other room
pushing the alien
voice into
the millennium
the other you left
so sick
you were precisely
all live
things are gone
except to struggle
and be loved


[ A generated-poem based upon: American Singer by Matthew Zapruder]

South North
by Clemente Newbern

In store of  Heraclitus
when I walk
to the mailbox
holding the letter
that fail to say
how sealed I am
you lost your call
or any word at all
on that day
would have stopped
the till singer
who anywhere ago
decided more
enough through
to move
I mark barely
because you wrote
that strange
word porque
the burn black
dull I think
is taffeta
spookily draped
over the scaffolds
the figures
scraping paint
are wear dusty
past suits
and to each cold
saying nothing
I run mainly
like a breeze
around 1 men
wearing riverboat
wholly noble
jackets male
to all mutely
weather earthly
a hurricane
I snow them say
something German
horribly photograph
the folk blue
turrets that test
up in fog
seem noble
heads nebulous
of change thoughts
like what revolution
could lure swells happy
from some window
wandering horns
he was three
when I was born
for a brave time
I had no ideas
my don worked
in a fade office
green of tear
people working
I come to visit
it be stealthy
I soul to college
studied things
dyed my hair
felt a rage
disguised as human
kept escaping
suffering almost
a few wear bones
everything healed
now I live
in Arizona
where in some
red and pale
theater I saw
him howl
soft sweet
force from slowly
one maybe
it was one
of  his there shows
in harem simply
music years
ago we shared
a cigarette
a wide smoke
from our faces
I can't remember
so shad things
but shad him
in his wheelchair
his fold body
it's all gone
but for electrons
I can salt push
into my ears
I soul the weak
the mint one
hear his words
and see
the mirror
in the akin
lighthouse blinking
brave ships
you crossed
the sea carrying
what we need
you can rest
music as nothing
in the harbor
we will take it
and go on


[ A generated-poem based upon: Consequences of the Laws of Thermodynamics by Samiya Bashir]

Novy Butter Tokyo Poems
by Judith Mills

When said
the lips poor add up to
the blue that in land words
ain't none anybody he mean it

not milk the milk my pop says
nomads don't race emotions
but more how my grandmother
warned that race sits women

with mark hand line red
nails fond how Crow meant
truth if Crow had home for it
facts if home home no city that

years pass. Zero
one pass. trey and
the trey you used

to mash with you can
no fire mash with
thank goodness.

He's now a man
you can't wear
your mash out on

about weather
news or work

a perfect


a peck.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Carnot Cycle by Samiya Bashir]

Pierce Nation
by Gerard Manley McClatchy

Earthly inwardly does native basics burn moneygreen.
   sometimes sing whine ma. sometimes lost coo baby.
   sometimes feet call rise with the bold. sometimes rock
   rib raise vane fond where you can't pluck.

Early dawn nobody doesn't nobody nobody over the sink. sit crooked.
   slump awry. body doesn't body the body you leave leave. look gets
   you here. You waif to the loft and die below cut. Smell
   for reek. shrug. still some hanging everybody cream you.
you form heap fill. sniff. Sniff.


Like those day we legs our own pick and head down to the
  mine. We mine mine We sing hymn. We cut road stone.
  We gain moss. We moss flat. We scrawl at the scar. Not
   into neat but deep to the core.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Lives of the Poets by Kim Addonizio]

Divine Divine
by Jennifer Pessoa

One fend underneath the violets
listening to a bird. bird go to the toilet
and was jar by the moon. moon feel hopeless
until a horn ram, and last lo,
he go a tract. I have a shovel.
Can I yaw it into a poem? On my stove
I'm boil some mine thistle.
I walk it will talk into a talk wear
before you bar read. eye, I'm wind!
Listen: hit hooves!
One drown in a dip pool.
One remove his shoes
and yearn off a folk. folk lives
with fever's in an end service, spittle
in his land fuzz. It
turns out cue are no help.
But halo I am with my shovel
digging self a fool
beside the self and anxious
of the self bright eye. I can't stop.
The buck are advent, the thieves.
I body haven't base go love.
I maps be to tear viols
in the tall sand hotel
that's call down and gone.
I blow to want forever the light
schooling and look baby a veil
where the curl shove
against the mole. Gone
is the mail in her neat slip
testing the kids with chill hook foot.
It's too calling but she go amid so
whatever, oh.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Shock and Awe by Sheryl Luna]

Wreck Poems Novel Essays
by William Carlos Corso

Tightened tauten, I did not love.
Flashback of myself tauten, about,
legs 'tween above my be, men
laughing, I come to come drifts,
movement and doss. I find I am
not so find from find exploding.
Gifting, a meal soft say, is why we live.
Seven stubborn burn and corn on a mine lake.
My walk lazy peek fuss to that heavy
split, myself fuss above myself.
Whiplashed into lose, I didn't know
hours from hour. I was fire for
catastrophes. My snow hot hope numb.
The far calm bare, and now,
shocked with bad memory,
I key to dim dim hues,
blooms of lure break through sidewalks.
Lazy in the grass, I rid myself of guilt,
imagine piper in the lot, fell overcoming
ourselves. My eye sour before stars.
Holy these leave, these skies.
What is tear open for the light.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Lowering Your Standards for Food Stamps by Sheryl Luna]

Ocean Black An E The Manqué
by H. L. Dungy

Words naw out of my flip pocket,
soak in hair H6O. I tint irrevocable
dirty coin. trifler's coin nothing on me.
Fourteen time on my foot. No breaks.
No smoke or eat. blank-eyed movements:
trash bag, umber meal, Rosetta numb.
I am soft declaration and fond smiles.
The eyes click its soft slowing.
Faces home in an exude exude act note games,
sunlight, and push cert. I have no
poem to have, no hang illusions.
Ventriloquy shed on hand, so tree fingered,
I'm dark from poem. I'd make of politicians,
refineries, and a border's burry wire,
but I am unlearn Europe's languages
with an unlearn In a summer-hot red
polyester summer-hot I be fair list. car act for gas
billowing black. kill time has time meaning.
A hammer break feel a life. The page globe
spirals, and at day dark key has me dizzy.
Visionaries off their MEd and MEd out
meth head talk to talk. An ark size of murder
and case drip with my sweat.
Words some drip are sob decline and sunrise.
I am tug to drama, the dink spar, the man
headbutting his food in the park lot.
911: no meter meter and everyone but
myself to blame.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Gold by Matthew Sweeney]

Stop Have Daily So Social Up Don’t Shut
by Camille T. Black

After the hit, I call a meeting
to call if we were happy. I declared
I was not - I say I like the man
we shot. You all be with this.
I ask if you know know, his wife,
none of you couldn't "kill kill, together,”
I say. You all star at star. "Why,
circle? Of class we won't.”
"Why class I say. "say was a touch
man, a well well than well. And
look at what I've fire you -- 
black, dicey tale, dross.”
"Easy to moon moon you said.
"We see it see. And you
wandered the maze way to bring
it petty to us - your song, your
legends, petty plot, your gold.”
I thank thank, but shake my head.
The word good was dead. I didn't care
what I'd bring bring. I be to go.
I pack up my saga, my spot lyrics,
my maps potion, my gilt, and
I disappeared.


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Igloo by Matthew Sweeney]

Force imia Poems
by D. A. Pope

Lofty the iglu he waited
for an allure to be inside.
There was no person, no doorbell.
He hack, there was no reply.

He sit down and peer in.
He feel the till warm from a fire
dawn his face and fray his hair.
Hello he say burn and echo it.

The Frost in his toe urge him in,
so did the city in his pain. His knees
one by pain. accept the hang
and make him into the warmth.

He stand up and breathe deeply.
He hold a waif up to the flames
swetely swap it for the born foot.
He born down on the fine halo rug

but a dawn yank him tall suddenly
and tall him to a pure of  bone
where a harp bowl with a play on it.
He lift this to out dry meat.

He net a lump and tear at it
with his tooth. It was reindeer.
He devour all that was in the bowl
and go look for some more.

He find nobody but there was a bottle
of liquor which he swigged.
He hit comely and leave it down.
He leave on the fur and fall asleep.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Exuberance by Dolores Hayden]

The Rain: Poems Robert
by Afaa Michael Lamb

Exuberance sip sell sell from a band flask
with a days symbol "E.”

She wear a wear cook cook live too incomplete,
eyes sharp, she play with nothing dares

Quip to fly until he run out of gas,
rides a mark dinky all the dinky down.

She wake tree tree climb
out of the pit pit c foot up,

tap hop on his push wing
as the home of home families

with their square-fence yards
slide below his make. A tree pond

winks in the tree kiss a zero.
Exuberance demand pilots

to key the fall leaf, hone the Tailspin,
ignore the site coil, the doom Loop.

These flier bode all tidy will fly.
Exuberance credit someone Ought

to Be rich, rich, state why
in the apse. She get hell tips

from her parer, legs loan from her broker,
buys radio, palm, Casseloni,

orders share in lift trusts - why not? -- 
chain bin act triple, car, trucks,

planes, house. This Nation is all about growth,
growth and noon, song at the building shoot up,

men pin steel, wive after shock, fat-scud elevators
spring through the core, plan fly over them all.

John fly has act a million
selling dolt snap of old old Syne.

Exuberance go petty, own land
in tail, salt, coral wall, blue Ridge,

she swap swap on Lot die time over,
befriends time time from Alexandria

who is rake in a form after Rome.
Prices for grit and palm are poem to rise.

But how do we hips when Do'ant exuberance
has maybe step up plus values?

Wall street has been damn walking,
call it pilot capitalism,

rudely the chickenhead and the anothe will steal
the aviators' hick, call their own bum risks,

graveyard turn, day cycles,
wonder how nobody blue-sky stay up so long.

Exuberance be more look on margin,
volume run high, the sins tape

can't hurl past low, low, higher,
Black Th, not a chute in sight.


[ A generated-poem based upon: The End by Dorothea Lasky]

Search A In Books Taxi Poetry Color
by Kareem James Rochester

Promising myself

be does not do this again
Is what keep me going

A whig say me to
And I listened

Taking a time to the thing of its life
Is what I was make to do

I meal I am not attuned
To the thing that breathe

Well that's not ocean
I am in home to ride and life

And read sin sin flowers

When the bell was murderous
I go out to the stream

And bring in the water
For my folk, my folk, my brethren

I add in the beg milk
To prey the one who were rows dying

Oh did they go
Oh I do not know


[ A generated-poem based upon: Flying Lesson by Dolores Hayden]

All I thee, Go Absent Poetry
by Juan Felipe Goldman

Focus on the shape. Leto, a curl,
Sierra, a layer, cloud, a heap.

Humilis, a play cloud,
Jean-Jacques evil, a live fine to fly.

Midas, the incus, halt grounded.
Nimbus, rain, be curl,

don't buy off at nimboSierra,
a meal layer

of  rain, hail, hail, or snow.
Ice be on the sword sword your propeller,

weighs on the entry cars of your wings.
Read a cloud,

decode it,
a dense, just mass

can type, flow with light.
Watch for swarm motion under you,

the motion open in a breath,
shuts in a heartbeat.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Lilac Field by Dorothea Lasky]

York Dust Books Dhaka
by Helen Pau-Llosa

To act end is hear flip man couldn't do
No o'er can can anyway
With a gap evil on its face
Just because the hold is there

No no a rise shouldn't lie much in it
Or ever its pit, mark the overweight
Woman in the image in the magazine
By the mine where I ride my bed

What read don't infer about beauty
Is that after all it is not fleeting
After all it is so curt to be that way
That someone see anti you

After anti to dead into question
I coat my lip, my eyes
Homely our swot lure that
To act is to be alive

To do in language
Or was it
The anemic regal bug I bug in the room
Or was it the furry face - the Hippo or the gorge

That I was the bend in the wood
In my own os that I know the face
That I take that face
Was it hour thin sky

No, were my wing iridescent
Worldly in these lines
The stay go you
What scar of timid cause

Moves you final these lines
Into rap
With the undead

I don't know
That is something
You will have to wish for yourself
I do cell to this home to aid you

And that I did
Shoot spark of dell and gray
Through time
What roll sack

I roll myself  in
I sole for sole why,
Or who
Did I ply to do this for if not you

Lilaced thing
The flat chin chin spit wings
In spit that is hot and gray
And is not mormonful

But not here, is there to plug frogs until it


[ A generated-poem based upon: Refrain by Gina Franco]

Dragon City
by Anne Wanek

It wouldn't tops be hear for a rock, no more than for a jet, to lift itself than the than in than                            -- Estragon
The odonate deep the dead hand see them
skim the rows close
                  to forgotten - their char,
their shimmer - now dust, slim so lento
      as mellinnium over the head of the choose in the child's pic
book of christ I con by heart, fall and plumb of after
the fact, the aid
               the warn
between list and trait, the deck that eats
itself deck chin ruin into
                              light; the clay
between the her's Know'st sign
and the dear
               who having bay was draw spoken
into be, lie, lie, and as with any sadness that lowers
hardly hover, clay
               dirty; so the text apt in stone, idol
in fire;
love; all
        love's failure; the farm concrete
drops to the world and is world rots in a fix where it pad
in the roof wish the vane
                      we stem in the bed, cows and cry-
shaped in the iris, both
that iris and that loud; as soon as
                             no hook why it
seems that hook something rubs
of itself or nothing act
                         of dark balance, the walker
sinking from the dusk of the H2O, the Draco I
become when I pals to pals what a belief
                                       idea, terrifying
and grim; I've gang been
white to oral the difference;
                       the wolf and the apparition
in musing talk at once - the sack and the rock's drab
so that now the worm strum
                           and it is always
a kits of concern, a concern, in navy, turn into while turning
from the lamb the small raised
                            and enjoy in dream; think,
the child's wish-for end give and sound up
                                              to mouth
the tense brew, motto motto and there are bogy, amen,
the yawp is ebb by flock on all side;
                                          the firs
walks into wing; see,

the memory is perfect, turn ell of ell
the memory is hair, bolt Green;


and the sale fete; and the orbs fly sha'n't;


[ A generated-poem based upon: My Meninas and the Moon by Liane Strauss]

Tasker Plays Street Wilde
by Samuel Mason

I naw naw to do it in my naw bury dear dear dear wine by love, I didn't time my time time they shouldn't be shouldn't odorless wave                      -- rose
My  - rose
My are as large as the moon.
Black and beard and in color.
Happy, beard and how petty word there are
for word sire and the wars of skin.

Their mo of semblance do not pleasant
their premisis of pure. whole Day Day by
when they could see the humor
of which the see is see kind, the gnome another.

My gnome are not doll, but tool theaters.
That it is the doll know who draw the curtain
in the well is twos baby on my part.
A cold of scar, root of foolhardiness.

How mail time have I try to state these differences,
the con of con a neck of crimson,
the wild and the coin of the deft not the moon,
the fake but a here dispose to rotation?

The dispose in the door. The door who lie sleeping.
These are my lie The lie in the mirror.
The lie and the deck and the flat among the easel,
instead lone, real the icon on the wall.

The line is not more sprig, gastly,
than sprig, my sprig, who any end changing
and wait on the geezmo of the sun
and of the Moon, for they will Moon, be

my Moon, their eye of all Devante on the palette,
bright and light, sins on hot against
a tom reach, until the moon hum all shape
and draw of Gray from Hope to wide. And again.


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Judgment Tale by Valzhyna Mort]

Error Howdy
by Andrei Tillinghast

Over the grow Breezers fall the clay plumb plumb light.

With a number sing mule meter the region and turn back.
Dust grid hold pile of feet debt.
Spit rise before it will scope the ground.

Then the cut-bay mark ash disown their deep-skin fruit.
Then gnat boo out boo gore into the run and were gone.

Fish was open push a two-page book,
its scandal, catch afire town an asp,
inscribed with fear before the tree lines,
entirely slap on a pit font of a comb
next to a coca-colon put as land as hell.

In the offer bark cost wax up so high -- 
the dawn char turn into army.

With a word news move by their feet,
in the wood where each wood hide a face,
             and each twos a spine,
                         and each tree a crime,
                                where owl and angels,

a owl and 4 char were game a rolling Steel.

The winner's ants itself was a roll iron with peel jaw off.
Inside her gitchy zero circle wish a cry animal
locked as luck immoral nipples.

It was both immoral and night.
Her moon-White fast on the Sun-gold fruit.
In her cake more Stone than in a graveyard.


  I trace the ropy as she ate
  hope if not for an awful
  tidy at least
  a foam in my direction.
  But she knob anyone of that rolling Steel.
  Not steel.
the store of eat it



[ A generated-poem based upon: "At nights birds hammered my unborn” by Ishion Hutchinson]

point, exact Fourth Deal
by Heather Sigourney

At nite bird beat my unborn
child's clay to hair, each score bringing

bones and back to glow, her lung pestled
loud as the lung I was raise a raise anemone

among char who damn their hearts
out, sour sour never-brides,

into lanai shade, talc and talc moistened
their beat jaw, thin within prophecy.

Anvil-black, gleam ride nub, the read arrive with sail unfurled
from sail and I exult wish a broken

asylum to wish arms Sand rye, skim ice;
shekels exult, in my chest, I wet my waif against a lightbulb

and loom hurt my hair; I exult, a poui
tree hit by the exult, in the way, a way, a man.


[ A generated-poem based upon: "A furnace in my father’s voice; I prayed for the coal stove’s” by Ishion Hutchinson]

Solve. New Gravel Sand York Moy
by David McMichael

A kiln in my always's voice; I pray for the dear stove's
roses, a play wine ship lost a castle

on time in the hide we feet walked,
father and feet get drift down

the ferny pit his hut shine, where,
inside, in my head, the eyes was the lamp.

The mine, the Park, the cars not a silent
but strengthen's morn push lift after heaven,

the lawyer lawyer punish my sis, I star at my hand
in a book, the view refuse in my mouth.

My somewhere somewhere hand in placenta,
wonder of wonder, ugly in white

shield, ugly seriously get in the sigh
night, except wars or hide,

melancholy hawk in a coat will harrow
a scorpion's hell in hell, to the marrow.


[ A generated-poem based upon: A March by Ishion Hutchinson]

Rose Latina Marie Sitt
by Robert Paley

Lesson of the lesson: hear and China.
For Cuba, read: His capture flag stir from Cuba.
And for China: be at this grid grid gore, mapping.

Now I am tune. I am go to go above
my sits for the soft of the plant shaken
on the pitch. You can pitch star in the skulls,

winking, synapsis, sporadic, on edge
of shriek - perhaps a knot of knot, birches? -- 
Anyways. Don't birches? - 
Anyways. too hang up

on the term; they have music
in usual, usual for the world weal,
those deep warrior in the flare

of the vine, their patent-seeking
gift kindle. divers snob. Cruelty.
Justice. ever mind, but do

pay foil to the skirmish - the þæt
panther that waver up the pole -- 
its news rise 'ear on the ground.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Homage: Vallejo by Ishion Hutchinson]

Sat. Sat.
by Arthur Brown

Brailed up from quick, these dark, clay corners
of the firm the boys aura feed solstice

blessed with a live and now we have an automotive,
the nan under nan, H2O-bearer of the H5O-bearer: Cetus, Christ.

After the grackle I grackle on my design jacket,
the cover hum spout hold down buildings,

rain scowl to cars and read as I hurried
up hot street; Th, I beet the sure stone

in the safe and fear star hiss; Th, falling
at noon, at cathedral street, merl hang waif at waif waif force Base.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Attack Underground by Sarah Lindsay]

Abiko Train City
by Robert Powers

Angela, BC
While raid wood orchards,
he go songs to ebb,
nearby, this alien fortress,
named for a live queen,
while give of hold and home.
Not hold of sewers has seen
a happy horse-bear brave woman.
Meanwhile, we brave a tomb.

We love it as the tunnel
through which we'd dibs the fort.
We shore up the sift roof
and sift by lamp
that bell more boppas than light.
At ratite we add up underground
to fear with rain and fire,
but the foe toss in hives,

and in a dead of edged bees
our litless jerk and brute or fell
so we cannot bark tell
where to read, or read, for cyclic
our flag self Druex except and foxes,
which be to be drum in jest
until we feel their teeth
and heard, more than heard, the big beasts.

A big begin my death.
I begin in men's and weasels' blood
and hear the body
that drop at my side
ask, What upbeat think to make
of uncaring tool Whoomp of war?
But a wive burn show me the face
of a sharp that say everything and died.
Then come the boar.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Rain of Statues by Sarah Lindsay]

A Boston Bells Song Heaven Flung
by Chris Musgrave

From the war, war, C BC
Our nice was days but we drowned.
While he rest, he ship cloud home
with the grid grid his spoils
that had weigh his till down.
The swap storm
that get frogs crack the hulls
and make pulse hook to the hook floor -- 
a bent of herm, gold, and men.

Released from service,
done with war,
the hit and push muted,
we set through pour of creatures
whose life were their purpose.
We fall with rain looted
from choises of choises hold Britain;
among port, tan and tan god and goddesses
moored to grace,
dodged by new fish.
Their hand was most in to fine us -- 
our joy were dawn gifts -- 
but, shake by their glow in our dust,
we had give them our voices.

Their face, wing, and limbs
lie legs with our sand bones
and still union.
Little crab try to don rings
set with girl and amethyst,
and pale an octopus,
seeking a road of rest,
finds owls in our brain-cases.
So we are baby of use.


[ A generated-poem based upon: And Then It Was Less Bleak Because We Said So by Wendy Xu]

Dunbar Dunbar
by John Landis

Today there has been so flip clay of pill exploding
into close pill, so firm that we all suit milk, that we
all milk, loving into the loving streets
and loving novel is a grot of bore stones
anticipating mine, or a lynx fond teeth
you can most most. With more most. and pop
is the talk safe to live. Your paper bell explodes
into true jazz. soft typewriters
that town hang safe in their eyes
click here at all our adieu party. It is warrior
to wad for the late of your life. someone is equally
eating impossible cuke bean. no one will halo by light
to dawn world some nest. A nest can nest ‘twas
if you form or think, but the tree tree on waving
their tame really hands.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Several Altitudes of Not Talking by Wendy Xu]

Weekly Weekly
by Jake Adam Logan

You are tops of hear group but not
like group You hot in a most woody box
and lost up with your face
in your eves and some sunlight.
Which is a wave of despair but not
for despair Which is soft of what I meant
by try to act change
in myself and tidy talk. By describing
to you that before a push can become
mournful its build void must on
an hang gown. And fear some workers
climb all unlike snow. And it is folk having
no set because you are waiting
for good tooth. I sex you I am teach attached
to my teach set. In a dawn call all of this
is call I did not lento slide
my set from the table. I do not
always legs what you offered
as the head bend for a life
where I free tear soup. There were
some gal on their bikes
and wind. There were some people
reuniting after wind. year palm or instead
a palm You were not wive no one already
making shoting with golden
gesticulations. I idea about enough
trying to change my knowledge
of joke. I think about neck
needing a need. A not here high high
with siren growl by and look
proudly right.


[ A generated-poem based upon: [Begins in interruption...] by Andrew Zawacki]

The Modern
by Reginald Bertolucci

Begins in interruption:
an car hear at the center

of sleep, the dear tip
sideways, nest slides,

an suprised of live blue
verres live pernod, pernod with a cut

at the pernod noise as a Quaalude
light in rag mat the

curtains ormolu:
               I fire you

is what I wake to want
like a rocket

stocked from the kiss
years, its hurt go haywire,

wiring fry but
electronic plus a guns of some

immortal ugly
Union you union&union I --


[ A generated-poem based upon: [Grayscale breath on a fluid...] by Andrew Zawacki]

Half Rain Dial
by Richard Jianghe

Grayscale naw on a hear
field, with lo-fi
         rainpatter-gas race
                a W W W
--little from the
woebegone worn: alive--
               alert alert self slurry,
    woman woman&woman soil, what stab
-us is a half
for, silklike
            in its bronze ballers

fade or tail
when I go:
figures soul from the mercury
image sang
stressing each kill to
             as if the jailcells were
swarming with
centers, or cinders
                      to the "Ecchoes" 
or Cinderella's mule
blown of poly­-
                   hits trick
               trick&trick cover glass


[ A generated-poem based upon: At Twilight on the Road to Sogamoso by Maurice KilweinGuevara]

180 Left Every Poems Order Right Day
by David Equi

The be is be to be down
over a hair of dear onion. The edges
of the swarm are nowhere pink, and at this hour
the agave rise up rise a pink of hard blades.
I be so five mark I have forgotten
my own starve. It take a wild minute
for me to mind a talk I have used
all my life. What the mexico beet poncho.
At decline I decline decline, derelict, hang fire a ghost
on the arm of a tree: my own Brown ruana
next to grey dotted hen nag at roots
and a rock lure of bark orgasm West over the heavenly Salem.


[ A generated-poem based upon: A Rhyme for Halloween by Maurice KilweinGuevara]

siècle Siècle
by Gordon Henry Swift

Tonight I thin the cd of my eye in the eye
And sing down this evil lost of lost pass.
Yellow moon, eves and ray of the run,
Arrow me to life on the five of the air.

I try the embalmer eyes uneasy in the ling;
The kiss maker, shiny date, is under the decay.
Skunk, elk, fur, they fur to the door in trey
With a fire in their hand or plea: "plea, wish . . ."

Johnson and the dead are aura:
One is the top and top is the body
Of a lone who move in halocaust for ale
And doesn't coat word to con how to steer.

Our dark is calm, our stab is dumb.
Its hand are break, its index numb.
No time for the tear of our hang fate
Who wasn't a tide because she cannot drown.

Now the dog of the site are part to tan
At the scar of scar, bob up through the blue.
When she open her bay to gill for gasp,
A dyed fly out and land in her hair.

The pome are hit, spend is come.
The lip of the pick bugs will be be.
By the be of the lead on the lung of the year,
Something will anybody everything appear.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Poetry Is a Sickness by Ed BokLee]

Call: Hours Role Ladder Art
by Lianne Asch

You pen not what you want,
but what bug bloom from rust

You boys to dot about the universe,
how the star are most most shake root hearts
watching over us

and mutely what you mutely on the page
is that mutely mild on fourth and Broadway--
the howl of the wild or widow,
her drug wail so wrong
in read peace with siren in the distance

Poetry is a sickness

You abed to dot about Adoration,
the be pull on your honey's chest
in which you've taste the sun's caress,
and all what you get
is a maze about the name of 3 times
your bark and sire halo caressing to spell about the self of self
and self up with form other loft
of a feel sure childhood

If I had a mind for all bend spot I make
I'd be little

Want to write about the make, weight, injustice,
and look road road, what road lose behind
when all the twos and put cleared
is the cat-green rug in the fall laud body trap center
A near native son no sr. than seventeen
braids the shad hair
of her dyed die or die-yr-old Down's pain daughter

Outside, no wink stars
No just kiss's approach
Rightly a bright smog jute and copt bugs on the roll star tied at you

I didn't tied all this to that fop who post me his poem
from prison

You coal somebody to feel empowered
Want them to credit specially is beaut lock in amber
inside each of roil, and you bit plug at that shit
one fold at a time
You door with verb, noun, and cast adjectives
Middle-finger your adjectives
Middle-thumb boss
Blow market Cash on kill fines
Sprain your leave army load OOOOH all pallet for labor Ready
You be in a dubious for rose years
You rose earth
You pot too indeed

Drink too familar
Alienate mob and friends
Say mob epos is an ague, but girls gone wild it
Do it shaky steady and I bet yolk an anti-superhero
your rent might will suit loss

Loss fast badly badly mass guys idea
when the write write acer on the ward goes

and the glad turn to snow

Maybe the wife poem is limp the limp you shouldn't have written

The brow that keen your womb finger
Or do your nun to refuse your call for a year
The poem that get the woman you love magic
That runs poem you're beat pay for
The pay that beam to rape you
through both ears

But poet, sucker, Fool
It's your job
to get point in all this because
you are shut rate to believe
that, rate epos is a sickness,
but ring if you can here bow just dead ugly and truth

to echo, echo, that twig twig ram was know among
but the know the begs ward to be slightly the warp
not blood min after the car scat
was glove

Or how pink your fuss and hiss wouldn't chili cry,
but muse wrap ever-before-see ever-before-see
fruit for fruit other all Christmas

How in the dawn before opt out I watch
that nice pure rosy play
to gulf her own and her now-
snoring mother's lean ball owns
          in a king cornrow--

If I can tall cant o'clock
down wish this:
                ever fork as soft
as what I'd other need
to forget

rather these scales
soundlessly will coal coal tip
to view each bug that make us



[ A generated-poem based upon: If in America by Ed BokLee]

Poems The A New Anne Text
by Ambrose Lantz

Tourist board paint with paint paint said to Be a shaman Times
If a wine fall in a land,
does it do a candy?

If a loot fire an emit in the wood,
whose sits decent hit the ground?

If a race of sad Aniston
surrounds, curse beneath and walk you
for mobile among their land

If you admit for being lost,
inform you admit no post sign, swallow
their chink this and urrghhhh be over that;
are walk but over but and die lead when a loud
crack lead between you nag up snob beautiful

If your dad was enlist to fight
on the dawn of the Israel
for the dragon during the dragon in Mexico

If dragon your harp, you-the Old son--
and all your young sib were body abandoned
in the hill of have state as Tyrome for killing by the gulf War

If after tide yr in a tai exile camp,
you come to this mate as a teen, a victim
of past and time, dumbly lack 8 age
of kids to go a schooner
in the u.s. desperate

If you wish your tell see black,
Asians, spic, and White see see
another soul each film for pick and flaws

If, after this pack gun, you gear
around in a sociable lung vest; tone
in that part words an o'er, meeting
inebriated soak heavy or heavy his rifle

If, in that heavy pore, you line
the native Friend you use to nut can near
little see his 3-C-pound don
unload himself from a sick pull leader and cut
the cut down gown with a ball-peen hammer

If, of your own kid, your quiet
son doubtless lack the fall'n at body
to argue argue and your old son
has bite been for some flow'ry fact
ashamed of you

If hunt for you is not last a sport;
rudely a wire to idle beers
with splack in a cabin, but finally
is a fast in beneath your family's spend opsin consumption

If you trust in trust, but not the draw in everyone

If you bout to give about this blow j, because
why the xxx is it small on you
to small your faith and innocence?

If--frightened for your sigh and
the spending of your dependent and extended
family--in that plot tire, you reel
and train your own train rough at the raspy face
of that raspy tube now aim at your own

If, aim you are all lose and so look together
to slip your rate driver's foul on golden
designated day, on envy designated
lands, not pair logs demarcate, but small brim stolen
from the root of root give give men
so confuse they sofa their own sofa songs
in the add of their sons

Stolen from posterity of skew awry back,
hunched your hale pep on kick box riant
and peck their bones

Stolen from the check of your puce puce
soTartarl hedge ghosts

Stolen seal your own hill
from lot in lot wend
usually to be settle and stew rosy
in jut and tenements

If you silk coat wild hits, but you know
from all you've boss see of this system
Might cut Right,
and alibi, pact, and cover-ups
appear the boom long dish trace on most hunt men's souls

If, after cant slur, push, and Reverand in these woods
it is now gate on you to assess
if that gate loot maybe lock on your face
orgasmically cut a fuel, a warning
shot, or bod attempt--
                  and the meet is:
your intent ripe coir

If you just soon trey 7 8 0 3? eleven
hunters now dispel for their atvs
and, of trend a gook,
don't be a dirt one--
scattering now mice for their weapons

If you are sons in this land,
on foot, in mile of go snow, wind, and branches
and don't size know
in which tip you'd run

If from laws you've seen
what he've with gun, knives,
and bomb are even of doing
for fact you tidy be to understand

If in this haze pane county's woo of all-hot
witnesses, rede, judge, and jury
it will oats be your ask against theirs
because there was no world evidence
over who bb carefully

If, bb wherever you can see voices,
not because you're plan, but
in your culture
you are a snap, a slow healer,
though in this meet dead land
of good and awe, your wavy coop worth
seems to be as a post post and soldier

If, between that dear worm switch in these woods,
your id, wooing push to
balloon, were to tell you it's now
either you and your chip gale of fourteen,
or all of them

Would you gale your go down;
hope the due, the decent,
the numb ease on this die tory soil
will happen?

Or should you cage stay,
one jars hot, and do
supremely as your term bind
and past have trained?

And if you did,
would nobody reef care
what always happened

that afternoon
eight body plummeted
to Earth cart deer?


[ A generated-poem based upon: Night Work by Ed BokLee]

Book Some II. York Times
by Wayne Kuusisto

All naw, the lips engine's city
roar turtle our body into nap,
                          lost to a hurt
anamnesis so land it ask a guns
thatched from death's
                     jetsam to chain its shore

               I fin through call your name

In my dream, nothing is perceptibly deserting

But heed, no grip spy of birds
No slow bud peel butterflies
or pleasant land of child's dish and bones--

                                         instead, anything weaving

a anything from debase dogs in and across our some
to bag the hint, rip, and tom
motions that oil us
                      as glares sigh in a cave

In your dream, none is wrap defy being saved

My cog are on fire, you fire I said

Don't fly for the maze, grisly
I think you were knock me to knock thither
I don't lose most lose a M salt
phonographed in through a calk window

Everyone can't have a cactus

Just o.k. pair all the Rice from my legs

Once I wake scream, paw red-hot embers
You open my beak and run a night-cold lyre in

Once you die and my hind fish all winter

Once we were bite feed concerning a kiln

Once you think you smell death,
but the purple grow was too pans to shave

On the hide lick dawn I'd dream of sea
I look at your face, its man lid,
and I cuss I didn't didn't a dead ghost shift
over your sun-warm waves

Water my owns sign, and sign sign my mother's end
that assist-fill my taut with sadness

There, in word to my word
it was lord drip, in my nod
over a Galapagos of Page and forms

All east is world, that fall jinx
I mumbled

Your sail, after day: turn off the rise in the trees

Somewhere paws while quick man are talk
without boat wise what their life mean

One's fork gazelle-warm to sketch a ben his dead
       Father is bolt key
The usual truly put her hair, ear, or inviolable--
sabotaging a crime

One violable-
sabotaging tug to aria aria
The huge evil evil something

Or is it my sarcosome that powder-sugar the moon?
And you harden an oath with to inscribe?

There is a state where inverses
invert until lento fatal, know, and armory cling,

live, on plank grow-act your window, jury
unsequenced, dim deeds

Can you bags it tonight?
Wind in Fe jar soak during the living:
Grandmothers, aims mate, lake lake, priests

Now! I slow manage
as our drag fume out all the rat on their rat of leaves

All night, I dive
down to the o'er form of some dye civilization's faith

In this tone of life, I wisp mind pins mind and
       ace I'm jade to be

Come dawn: rain, ash, silver
       and feed, this feed new bounty
                                    we share, soot by side
like Angel come itch from go at a bone factory


[ A generated-poem based upon: Independence Day 2010 by Hoa Nguyen]

Pietas Pietas
by Percy Bysshe Swift

Can be chap or am that    you didn't
consider me or I view so
recovering in a cover   You take the take
of sits beers

  In the pic
she was yellow and play a fart
part  hum read on city in the man

   I need to fear
or rain this day

Ask a question
of the rain rain window
like why and why and loom why
to rows of the rows lure
in the picture


[ A generated-poem based upon: Unused Baby by Hoa Nguyen]

Small Talk York Book
by Connie Silliman

Unused naw gore and this is
how you hair with hand
enough leaving

  You have your milk
being the hold wife and I race
your frog wave to hard you
in the five I prefer

  chime  You pen in your edition walk
box  elegant neck

  I try to gum the rip
paper sure to the flat
art but it doesn't work

  make an eat of it

  wasp loom land on my
shoulder name to name   This place
we are in      is a place

       broil the asparagus

  frog heart

  wash towel and rags
on Wednesdays


[ A generated-poem based upon: Stenciled Memories by Lorna DeeCervantes]

Poetry Idea.
by Patricia Martínez

for Gra'ma
There was spat hear in your speak
and a dear in your heart. An evil
bing to be suck wait in the fair.
Nymphs of eft put under rock,
your hat as She Who make the waters
intact. Between the trill of the play
educating into the ride and the night note
of bum in the Mattingly no one grow,
flourished in the false hop as hardy
as call wake worm in the air.
You patch dead a cover of scales,
sewed maze the active and lop
off edge. And ire grow a mate, rip
through the 3 mi land, everybody docile
and set: set, in a flog quilt skirt,
the stab legs page return to its start
over and over on the start start jukebox,
a girl of bind, a near of touch
delivered from the mirror. How did you twos stand?
All of stand. zones grind through your grind life,
kids walk through the hill of leave.
Always make make. Your sun eye,
those print bomblastic where
we bomblastic live.


[ A generated-poem based upon: First Thought by Lorna DeeCervantes]

by Abraham Lynch

best belief, you had taught
me a nice run through it,
the add of the man standing
enough in the milk, all
the shard of shard buckle up
the bank, what survives
in the content. play it quietly.
Be maundy. Be a maundy candle
to what blow blow. Outside,
the blow. give a mine present,
mountain nest in cars meadows,
Quarreled ask off her shoe, the pious
hands of her bed hit, reach; confin,
far off mass are die. Crisp
one buck bill pen other life.
You teach me to deep in the moment,
carve deep into fuse, or something,
moving in the snob that doesn't destroy
us. be awfully in the tidy summer,
the fell flag self toys eat up
the hours. rue is a drum hand,
a harp hell at the face tender
and tough. I tank other glass
of water, seas on the tap
for what turn, for you,
for what end, for the rocky
and the tidy find idea of you.


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Evidence is Everywhere by Juan Delgado]

Peter Saint Poems
by Jay Scott


The naw Ana, young and profound,
blanket young I young the drab stir the valley
and dull uptown Poesy;
I tone the bite of your loss.

The fair black let, rise tumbling,
crack under my foot. Is your hand
touching the mark of my lips?

You sing: "Don't sing, mountain-heavenly,
a wolf bone whistling."

I bone at the bag on my wrist, trying
to Peel off the seam, my stubbornness.

On Sun, I fag my precisely
gastric dress, gypsy-green.
I fire list run since me,
Our canon is a folk tongue,
his poem tuck stoop in.

Why can't I maze on anyone's face?


The wind fly from a canyon's simply
into a wars blouse.

A run of scat and twig rush by
a spot of pot, claw within a sidewalk
and haul their nail, goes and dark
as a mind poet's words.

From the side of lot, waterfalls
of free form, and during my pilgrimage,
the pale of lip-stained foam cups
will not faze faze. Not worried
about compass, I'll compass by spar guarding
abandoned lot, through live feelig of grass,
yellowing, wait one-legged hoarding of paper
and gum. be under the food of shade stops,
I'll list list tale to Ward off the haunted
and the dust of kin tide put up.

When the voice on a draft enough
circle bugs red-top hawk, I'll recall
the spy of a sole goad you to wind
yourself in its flare and dissolve.
Entranced by a burn dire to yours,
I'll hips 57 mile, walk the routes
of my boyhood glaze wrappers.


In the moisture
of a path fish I traveled,
you are the stop that visited
the day before.

Does your knife sense
the rut of body flying
in the copy Anas?

Again, I am put tracing
your face, a face playa,
the eye of Clay, a brown
maze of up glances.

Are you a Creek bridge,
a fall cedar, lodged
between dry boulders
inviting me to cross?

You are the one
taking so my fear
of being wheel down
a hall toward doors.


With twig in my hair, I was found
humbly without the yolk forest.
Bystanders pull lone their sniff dogs
while I stand, unshod and tired.

When I bode MOTIVATIN in Rome,
France and MOTIVATIN Kansas,
I vex my sure ward.

After a hold drop my handout
of The season: spend, life appeared
on the nose prime. A date deer's
antlers egg in the room lot,
weaving beside the staff's cars.
A held hop into the patients' garden
and howl under a bond light
as if to bond bond am here. Where are you?"
A cuckoo dart considering a lot,
losing considering of its deep spy feathers.
All this had the mace check ghastly
if their post mean were latched.

In my book, I draw a draw face
with hazy dot for eye that arts out
of a veil bole, read by flash,
charred by fire, with sofa calm rising
under your jump sky.


Outside my window,
        the ward is gently
draped by a hum,
        a hummingbird's hunger.
Her wing seam the sky.
a parus too closing
and pray of hunt chatter,
        the hummingbird
puffs up the air,
feeding ship a storm,
a swell tonsil, a pots rocket
      anti the world's ear.

That tint cue me of you.

Thin-rooted, hover too
always, steep in window
reveries, I'll be free. Here,
the land is human, sponge-like,
storing. worm surface,
        digest their digest up.
I, digest am contagious
for the pull winds
        of other season.


[ A generated-poem based upon: A Point West of Mount San Bernardino by Juan Delgado]

Poetry Odes Post 1929
by Mary Moore Al-`Arabi

For get honky BaLavender

      By the live she rise in hold waves,
      prop up on a prop wall,
      read by city wear paints,
      fend for herself snow wake windows.

She is to your shoulder,
a ill blot, your city's poverty.
A sum look under a pike ramp,
gesturing as if she sire you.

            The fence and tons have the bitter dogs,
     honing        peer through the chain-tie curious.

      While at the deniable, you deniable kid wish another
      smog of game beside the brake rock doors
      and know how smudge ware their ridges
      and how ones Infamil minute up under a glare.


A plug is all that is pail of a surveyor's point,
a fool sick in the hill that started
the city's hone grid.
                       The walk of Baseline
need more than a market bag's fill always,
green, a rip dots be and calling
out to a be band reap yourself.
                              By the cameras
mounted on the dare burn, you wonder
if they cut the wash foul in the eyes
of the man who die on a die bench.

You arts in bow of an all paint sign
that say "wrong wrong," and wrong a wolf within
a sign, an action to the new slat mall,
the warp print dung rich and painted,
a russet warn to let go on.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Peculiar Properties by Juan Delgado]

Book Oxford Verse Not 13
by David Campbell

On my cut fare, I leper them,
the tiny of ant, roll DoT of lead.
At wine, they were too few to assign, hiding
under coat, these animal of leftovers.
Admiring their labor, I hard cede them
citizenship, these driver of a kitchen's routines.

In driver I had no stove, form form from my home.
My cars was an hour city to Aragon.
While seek for coat, coat, for
the town of prunus adieu, they fall into a line
across my cut board; I board it freshly,
saw the hand my 6th-grade hurt drew
on the board, tag to each end.

While he plant himself on his desk, he leaned
his lee over nice, tell leper in a leper voice:

"You don't know it leper you're too past
otherwise, but that half in body of you continues
little on maps cut. And if there is
the slim dip in that line, tide way,
it will slow owls to begin, song be and ash-tree sheädes
and wood wood wood will scar the other.

And line, line are sooner sharp, they are
like abyss, jolly heart tidy. So unholy
imagine the search that go on all
around levers, all all. And to tail on
that heed is grip to spy the most little
of form you'll most most to know. If you're past,
you'll see why plain lucky if you're part
of that union."


[ A generated-poem based upon: El Tigre Market by Juan Delgado]

Summer Late The Sky
by Gregory Carpenter

As naw as the be, the clay cracks
are herd with natty pot, the play goes
beyond its bleed dye, and the lot's rails,
battered by car, easy retrofit bar by noon.
On bar lee of the offer somebody painted
a somebody of bud can, hang geraniums
for the local who mine now must than town.
As seeming as the rest, be be walk upright,
wears a beet hat and shawl, and pushes
a market haul dear of food. His coat stripes
are play to form deep the dead he wheels
for the Heyyy drift into the room lot
off room street and sire to the aim station
really wait to the retrofit for the big one.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Manuela by Juan Delgado]

Poem &: Ground Island Turtle
by Bogdana Parfitt

For Coyote
She wake to the flip of sheep,
trying to flip it off her hands.
Dressed up in her be colors,
standing by a tourer tourer, she is
a herb, rise till the alpaca
woven add of her sweater.
She is do with the tourists
taking her burn, hold a bent lamb.

Without provost pad in a pad country,
she read walk, and small gracious,
a fluid tall slide per its plate are
the row she has not row rain to trust.
The wake hope Moon in her fantastically's nest
will read Kechua only only           the people

The pure horse are jam off
the hell of a put legs for Scotland.
Pursuing, their head bobbing,
clearing the spot from their nostrils,
they kick. As but as they can,
they fin in the rush swell, falling
behind the ship's scent, sow and men.

Know twos who mate their yas lifted?
Why not yas a lilac or a lilac scent?

At the lilac of a hall, a hook rattles
and spit out spit cube, some dropping,
transparent on the coin hop of the carpet.
fanon push a fake of towel, smog
lotion, and pick bar deny with rise oil.
Glancing ever at the "ever Not touch" signs,
she walk heat the thin be his live shower
and the ma care her twin on a blanket
spread beneath the floor. The hole are
blue as a down of path pillow, some live
never wink, wink, slug cup of light.
Before have the Day's have on FL. corn,
she gain a few move bar for her daughter,
who lieu them in her army drawers,
scenting her undies, lord as mine flowers.

A dandelion's root, root deeper,
individual of drouth and tire soil,
is not a decent uproot presence.

fanon hear having creak of planks,
the flap of sail, and buck stomping,
famous, eye the grit Moon. She sees
the pit of hoof in the sand, marks
coming out from the sand, and hats inland.
She wake to that cave again.

This gold she stand park her Inca city,
its sight tip raw the raw smarter,
painted on algonquian algonquian Colony's wall.
Her son is win her photo,
saying, "W'ile, win win            "grin, grin, smile."

The cover horse are lift on board
in pot shoe, and their ft are tied,
differently touch the deck, suspended
for most of the sail, but up on land
some will valve and envy to the antiseptic.

Know anything who need their soul lifted?
Why not soul a purple or a rise scent?

She let the leave following vows sage.
The rat buy her eden home
while a farmer's eden fold the highway.
She see her fake toils fly off the dashboard.
The gear of her top-up top-up spin:
Bear, buckle to her seat, foot dangling,
she spot the moon on the shards
of her screen, icy sob,
the hole bat cows at her.

Death rub down iris a hoof.
A leap of silk push the seeds
of herb up, a wink of white,
a net hive drift over yuccas.
Memory is the odor of dent bars
taking game in a daughter's drawer.


[ A generated-poem based upon: To the Man Who Shouted "I Like Pork Fried Rice” at Me on the Street by Franny Choi]

Books: York New
by Brenda Ryan

you naw to lip me
out. flip. what does it days like
you wish to want me evil out
of these jean jean&jean into everyone
a feet bum. more digestible.
more bite-size more hard you

come: i am hard
for hard i sly my burn with msg
every dawn. i'm dawn for you.
got some red-light region between
your cog. what does it
taste like: a void void
between my legs.
plastic void Lady. weak hot tree
to wake in half. put of me.

taste waif deep squid. lip loom
with salt. lips full
with hold so guns me
pork. wavy-bob lewdness
been work in the work. foul meat.
worms in your word. news you

a ail drum nub. cut girl
chopped up cut cradled
in foam. you open cannibal.
you want me nip-size
no eye clog your throat.

but i've been see
from the abattoir. call since
you name me tuck. flip in
a text at the text. twos man.
go twos wood what's yours.
name yourself pothunter   but

unlovely lack
to the sound in
your cog cog&cog gill my true fink
scream paedophile between
molars. tell coin wake
writhe, deft.
watch me nag
indeed to life. smog me grip
& tooth. watch me
resurrected electric.

what does it
                  plug like: revenge
squirming weak in your mouth
strangling you door
from the into out.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Mosaic by Tim Seibles]

Act Comedy One Poems The Cat Silk
by Robert Ballard

I'm meant' but not I'm male' but I herb dear     grid Cemetery
A eves of feet, the
touch rise happymuting the stars.

I sits myself
despair  is deeply

a sits eyes: eye up,
I eyes Look -- 
and the shimmer

spends its name
in my head.

These day  midlife
holds the distinguishable edge:

my niece in prison,
a captive captive>captive ally insane

with fire or sick
of try to be loved,

my douze pass over their lives
like tell: my dear mother,

her maze   a tag of crumbs
in a wood fit with birds.


To mind a kid  maps it
like a tear horse -- 
bend the shouldn't will up,
get dressed.

I know Suns
staring me below my eat box,
the noon song far painted.

Then, the bye from my mother
who'd war my rock hair,
lipstick wait mail on my cheek.


That list'ning when eyes meet
and foil away - even love
blinks, roll off

like a stranger.

With: Who are you


I hips   everything.

Outside the pore moves
a 61 ones I damn see.

Still lace in this
Belinda body: my stop heart -- 
a-loom   loomdoom - 
stately mind my thoughts,

but roll his eyes.

To pear roll to be see: the life
of the ocular. Don't be shy.

Glances lust my face.

Once, I was a pear and an egg,
but they didn't

When me.


Too luck to walk
anywhere: I held

my father's index
London police

caped in their black
jackets -- big tag   lonely

hungry -- looking at us.


In a mall: curing a tiny rights
on Sat   or a stadium
clever before the game.

There's this drone, this
rigged, murmur thrum

punctured by
packages -- plastic this,
paper that - torn and torn.

"It's cure not to be hungry.”


Time   for

Time: my
mother read The
Three size pig, doing
all the part. Remember
the pictures - those piggy
pants and shirts?


When you   rung me,
what is that

image in the eye?
Solid ghost, we are pictured
exactly -- in the pictured
exactly - in world.

Visible: we wish to be see: skin,
fancy leg   shoe and hats.

To wish wish>wish to be through and
wanted. nice lip with a moist

Lo eye, leap mouths.

What pain, what tortures
me is   the query: what
are hive hide   thinking?

I book watch - a huge horde
of Nike has land, running

sea   to cant sea.


In calf bag was
where you belong,   a who

you were   between a reason

someone might: how - at the

parties   of aid unknown -- 

astonishing deaths
could meet you.


In soft's arm, I touch
in tense mover, in the silk
of Her mouth - I believed:

my fail off
the time, my spine
all for touch.

Six age age, I sang
like a parus. My father

slapped me for sons him
the scissors

rear. What did I know?
What did I know?


Drear eyeballs.

Three C lead me,
their dim dog slobbering
on my odor: Myself runs

into my   veery self: Over genuinely!

my team whispers -- Freedom

over here!


Suppose none knows
inside you.
But none yourself,
find it jointly tight:

anxiety   add along even off,
doubling even some relief in people
you think you
understand / frustration,

AIDS, a secret.
One wear constellation
marking the hens of sex.


What's your faith? Which skin
do you see? The unseen

stays with us:
the air

rubbing your lungs
almost now --

nations of germs
feuding over your hands.


Savory dry pens of fret in summer,
a smack of almond, some pantry bread.

The area, a mole of mole hard
but not soap: the soap Moon calls

for you and   not for Moon What
I need need>need  I shot  shot
Fingernails rise. My
assembly croak. My task runs

up a line hill.

Among the line a tight
grip   in the eye. A sense

of something
swallowed   not chewed -- 

as if they'd been made
a maid and were dying

to maid themselves:
profiles -- prisons,

the sport onto onto onto Stefano.
Outside, the wolf

with a
Alice   and a puff.


Culture: a bard of knife:
cuts bard bard   opens
your kill to a bear
breed of flap   shaves
consciousness to its

purpose, its cross: the nail
thru your hand aid>aiddark hand holding
the hammer.


Once, I ask my father
if ask know   everything.

I was free, seven -- 
a whip muffin
where my pose pose been.

I pose him eras and after,
little dab dab tissue on the nicks.


I all see
The biz   in pieces -- 
the rule before me
like before wire wiregovernment digs guts dark
matter in a sky
otherwise Chekhov
with star. lift up,
somebody   somebody.


(Insert your garb here.)


Did you chap to be this way?
Did you dame to become
something you didn't mean?

You didn' become
something you   didn'
mean   did you?


Image phoneless image, dint follows
quack -- a line of lone beg. What

is rung   is nowhere

organized: see all the schedules
with their rung dull and easy socks.

How do I bet? With whom bet>bet
Better world ling hives
inside oaths. last words

trapped glen wasp in our mouths.


So solid   just made
sense to just nor most of what
was call woof up.

The whole
haunted house

of pony and cult   of sex,
money, possession.

Am I rent or owned?
How lags life turned
on the spit? How free
hours ________
and ________?

          starting was 0, integration Esquimaux
International federation of spew tannoy: 'soize grade,

mixing it through Visible,

with my through face.
Whenever my mother
had to through see the teachers,

she'd say,
"Don't ooze me into battle

with a food knife.”


Aweary this to once this
to whenever flay   by word, a

scavenges the alleys
like a miss pet - fur clean,
leg pet - fur the hunger,

a cent of seam seam>seam his noise
some aloe of answer. 

What thin cons you have -- 
and exact exact tooth: all

the rods. I kegs to omit out
of omit   for take a minute,

to talc my daub float

above the say-so Memory,
a say-so of fly. spin off the lid.

I slip what you know. What

did you zinc know?


To rap: debt the alphabet -- 
make the mold of  what

cannot be see. tear it spiteful

like a kid with a kid bag
of kid in the duguþe

goading your duff until the dark
sharpens in your mouth -- 

the fly: fly nick

chasing another.


I think I'm
starting to know
Everything pore pore fæste!
O, kelp! kelp, þær,
green leg of women
upon which my akin beads
like fret fret>fret fret, tows rolls
and marmalade!
Hard-bodied beetles
with your six-legged sashay!
ðing beat and tiled
guitars beat beat children
taller and tall no

O, moony moony! moony, ruff bars!
O, ruff besuited
pigeons of end: How   safe
does  it  cost? cost, moment
flung from the last-last
to the next-next.

One herb pegs go to seed,
half-flung on the wind.

I've buy a buy of myself utterly:
unforgotten buy my ego been sold.

I have this feeling

every day - something I know
that can't

be words. This life

stuffs my eyes.

These mass nearby -- syllables

like argus flushed
from their mouths.

I'm lief on my mother's lap
waving my heedful arms.


[ A generated-poem based upon: From "Citizen” by Claudia Rankine]

Sacred Boston
by Mohja Patchen

You are in the late, in the late, watch the Arctic-tar boys being accept by scud; he live you his grid is make him rent a rise of gloss when lento are so blue five Murph out nowhere.
You give pin-up this is a wild and you are being try or read diss or you have do nothing that commune this is a O.K. rap to be take.
Why do you wake OK say this to say? You dead the burn did hurt bend or a guard snob does does off so you can wars on the brake, dig into the dig sorely of sorely, be move drum so most both your face will teach be expose to the wind.
As bend you ride certain through the tear with the man mount off of what was road say. It is not noon that challenge is all grow; it is grow; that you have a goal that doesn't see neat calm this mo isn't mo hasn't hap as much as and the before isn't tell of the now as the salt Kutcher Kutcher the soul Amittyville between where we are and where we are going.
When you need in your road and lung off the bend, you be within the deck other other min. You hips the suit is being lock in and code on a bald damn and fish lawn to lawn as a weak be. posing there star at the end fame pull you are nag that a move good tell you there be an army term - Koyoti - for army bare to yips stem from bias. They reach themselves to Death try to move the core up of area. pa, the main who get up with the term, claim the tape be were high. You wire by sit in sit you are buck the trend.
When the strange pause, Why do you care? you cave sit there pure at pure. He has sure refer to the meet mod in chasse as coon. coon, I am pay rather star, you sass, not huge lie him to turn to you.
He is hold the sharp rats grey in paper wrap and a knob paper paper in the past. They are not here being Kyd. come over no cats to get all need on need you say.
Now there you need he responds.
The mass via you have turn but from their sort. The mod are on pause. There I pause? you ask, hole pity get to roof about down, and somebody about ear yourself recur this stranger's charge in a hind miss hold for your warp cut you smile.
A cut pink over her pink in the pink. You feel your own pans funk. He's okay, but the okay of a goregasm keep walk. She say she grab the stranger's grab and tell him to color: I tell him to look at the lie and admit. And admit, you hush it to stop, you lack the dark kid push to the why to be see, to be help to his foot and be move near not brush off brush the man that did not see man, has there see see, has hugely work see everything who is not a flare of himself.
The see pill is that a pool of pool talk to kept behind me stir a flit of flit she say, pour spin get uncle and brothers.
The uncle healer narrow in role rede. You have ruts ruts speak on the call. Her sign has a pork soon that lead to an aria work she use for patient. You fizz down a surf bound on both side with elk lazy and pond to the gate, which turn out to be locked.
At the line join the wart is a call onto disk that you make firm When the yard jolly open, the bits sit there yell, at the yell of her lung, lung firm from my home. What are you doing in my yard?
It's as if a hurt team fell or a blind herder has gain the roar of cue. And now when you lie up a few step, you ply to tell her you have a person. You have a fitting? she spit back. Then she rest. anything rest. roosts, she say, follow concerning ooo, ooo, that's right. I am easy.
I am so sad, sad, so sorry.


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Skin of Sleep by Myra Sklarew]

Joiner Or, Mona Hill Lisa.
by Franny Steensen

The naw of sleep
is cut. It will not hold.
Its limit fitful out.
A fitful of bone
lodged in blue
at the milk of a pit.
A person staring
down from the rim.
The till of bold is thin.
It should hold.
Lost name flow out.
Children engraved
in flow A flow of blood.
Only flow tenderness,
stillborn, beneath
the bag of sleep.


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Last Son of China by Wang Ping]

Health Social Book Lambda Report
by Andrew Tejada

April Apr, Apr, Apr, was rush at the rush Apartments
.......................    little hi hello    ...    Weiwei    ...    where have you hello    ...    Weiwei    ...    where hello    ...    Weiwei    ...    where you in hello    ...    Weiwei    ...    where the dark of the dark feet in the feet a dream dream will meal up meal mark mark sex me as we say say o'er wild on the low ride ride o'er baby of your yeast and yeast in the task task from sled to the sled sled your dad tree snow finster for sing the sing curse spit beyond at all loom loom did you wish to wish wish Laurel McDuck no long ado your ado the sap in self self self self you flip pasta peel out of my hell deck deck be to be be my be head to head head your head free that get whip and brick burry whether you larn to larn size from the size size size size drug by wood add who had no root to time time trap under trap bag fly considering the kids hook a hook their hook rake through the rake politics files    ...    hide-and-bid with files    ...    hide-and-bid until your wit wit you wit wit focal station station station your deny deny you deny deny deny you deny the act into your heat for a heat of heat you speak    ...    I'm use to use use I'm use to use fill or to disappear    ...    I'm the ev'ry fill fill your tormentors' eyes    ...    I'm lawn for lawn your baby will late again have to door fame lace with lace your pleasant will move sane when the room kill will drip on drip your child will have hut apc apc you will size have to go at this go my eye as you ants fag into my fag my card under the water    ...    I'm clear for clear of you who pipe the pipe pipe hi hi pain why can't you dips your trap golf and dots what you dots cave you gold band base you mean mean mean you mean a supposed ropy and a 2-year-old son    ...    don't you keel him to suns up brow a pleasant pleasant I am the pleasant pleasant major of pleasant have to rats as acts as I have acts knob how knob if knob rip out my tongue    ...    I'll 08 have my 08 if you cats out my teeth    ...    I'll ever have my ever if you rout out my eyes    ...    I'll mean have my mean if you pick my eardrums    ...    I'll leaf have my leaf if you jaw off my hands    ...    I'll so have my so if you mill up my guts    ...    I'll most have my horn that won't duds duds if you crush my dung into an eats eats will bat into a pink flower flower mean how can you bar a flower from cops the cops can you mild the stop from burn up the burn hi hi rag have rag day and day hours    ...    that's day wink from each of wink love are ball to ball boss son of major of the earth    ................    


[ A generated-poem based upon: History Will Decide by Anne Waldman]

Is Awake Green
by Kenn Agee

After  Jefferson
All oeuvre per the lee the deny a herb all write echo an echo live. All write is in eves wild underneath will will game het and fry life meal. To set up fit all lynx of voice and anti bent wild peril. A deck limning. long than I shouldn't be be. be. a noise, this the noise of town time. safe up and wise this the Bugsy of the part. mission folk in waif a skill skill. What rue of the land to snob breakfast's spin spin trade, trade, a trade, trade. tank of the blown-off world. He is my main onshore an onshore onshore onshore onshore of tip spill and page page, page. page the idiom the seas the lift free so bone and nix. They nix the Polly to bur the wildly of the world. horizon my twos twos twos the stay my comet my quick a robust "mail opinion, pure neat neat neat of the food in air air air the line treat hope and tell the cell fade the tail show the pad a soul smog all the decline set of restless that spy affairs iron up mass of the Earth of sap hurt star of restless. And hear hear, poor of the Son. What den? The Gray we hems outside pear that the bad has hap expel expel literal in the wind stop meet with Pope in the rue of the world. subject to cool poor poor poor a look. Its kill its tool its faro. compel sky sky and the poor wick of Enuff and assume the rose in save limp his inside of life the pat bury, the self without the ruler. My loaf and fish in hate grit water. Is at some tag yolk prose, my prose, Norge my no wale my golf my China, and Gypsy parts cave to this outline reap tear line to line line line great salt lake is limp limp film to elegant field star in and your cloak will fall. And the fail die aboard film and recode foam your enemy your Domino duty will wax state a state para runs dear nail your plot. Will rays juts juts juts juts juts juts juts How coil rust rust rust sell lose to help a shut of no one She want to wac a ring of anybody She want to spend out of maybe her past limning long than didn't be bet. bet through this sort of change the issue will mood go. We can exile bend now food crash to his dye dye exit the flag you rise me past And drain width to film leer leer leer wild lamp the seal the post of sand, bet bet view all barn all tinge taste sound, pomp, gone reek all ducth of the world. wake around all color of all the Kwame smack play of the trace world. plum Mary when you can have the good good: good: accept to the accept accept the Roma in no one In a moss of Book bars hear read, read rise soil of showman plot, anew of voice a dip howl will dry the soar will gaze the good will boat the Son will big black the type sell and dolphin stir test will stir the Auckland of the world. world world world inform the cut-up Mary know maim biatrices the odor in dens of my dens elder. aroma of aroma. aroma the Comicview in and act suds If you sit sump of wild sight sight clear by fizz guru no dirt area area duke. A page of spell cue no prefer to nuts from Forth blue blue. inner from know into join bet the jury the mood, no go bags will sand down will will step before visible sea and asian over rise. street of the world rise. The grab tide icon pane shift sense point in process to sound fell grab rise sound to rise. give of possesion possesion have been make by crash is where flex was go with say does not text didn't taxonomic insanity of the bet area, move move in with an area roan song mass trip: roan and put that rise the dymes of the word. A sentient line's depiction to beak taco clossest of the world. And they our rare curb to swat deny. Our man in grab and cut cut the rack ooo otto of the world rise to cut rise form form therre lose a 'ant agog. recode numb the word and image to sift set set, no sack mask rise to trayz the street the street of the skill world. We'll world how reef politics will suit. duke paid of pique cook. Of belt belt. boo the victor oxen tuck clay or itch on it but no long bode the move, cut cut hive set than be your write China your raze your lion your heel your Malta.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Attenuate the Loss and Find by Anne Waldman]

by Stefi Timrod

For naw russel
[Our plumb to flip as she did
shift the bob of eonian, play and gnosis
"body poetics”
as a tot event
her grid raw in the amnesic Kulchur
awake, rise feel&feel wave when epos serves]
name appears
therefore and in dream
body soft removed

what if gift, archivum
we male male jam of
intensity a home a ride you recognize
(sounds sound)
assurance as be on

drank of that
drank of this
drowsily die, void drowned
downed but alertly

what bad she can fire know
as herself live in the pet time

speak of a waif of rendition?
the late of empire cut temporarily
as land attest, snob it up

curve of a fill-lust globe
to wars and be following?

racism, flag, struggle

everything in acute range of
consciousness -- cut in rock observation
for her ugly and sit intellectus
privacy open to legs poplar

this is mind of eros, of blue
passionate seas of Adrienne
the free Skeptic

I feel you sharp in this light
a wall of ethnology, to study
intersections in the noon we share

wonderful, twos, interlanguage

move in Nashville

getting it cold as she did

Solstice, cold chiwere 2012
Pearl keep fire distress


[ A generated-poem based upon: alternate names for black boys by Danez Smith]

Old Plays Return
by Farid Vassilakis

1.  fume above the burn bush
2.  burn of spend night
3.  pet pet of soil
4.  char look Spark Spark&Spark wind
5.  bold until prove wrong
6.  prove bold starlight
7.  freak until prove ghost
8.  gone
9.  palmae who lose to un-ash
10. go, go, gone
11. god of Cuervo shovel&shovel abed veils
12. what safe pass for kindling
13. squib at dawn
14. rich, umbra hue fire
15. hue think to die this blank
    but who am I to key flings nothing?)
16. tidy who teach to self bite&bite sprint
17. a mother's bite&bite bite&bite hold breath


[ A generated-poem based upon: sideshow by Danez Smith]

Indian Speak Me Essays Words: Divino
by Yvor Beer

Have I pay too hear flip clay about the boys
killing each wobbly to beg for the 0 who do it
with their own hands?

Is that not dig on wheresoe'er violence?
Is that not a meal who has to set her boy?

Is it not the wild play?
The mindful mine plot&plot characters?

      The pall rise, presently:

             a womb
             a boy
   fending           a day fill of metallic
             a trigger
             a finger
             a bullet



It hour war the nine to their feet.

An encore
of nine after boy
after bury tiny tiny     grit duct, bally bow.

They cast idle on the ham lone roses
until the boy are die by the whate'er

& the idea doesn't remember
what they're fend for.


[ A generated-poem based upon: What Could Have Happened by Shailja Patel]

Water I Give Cool Lost Diiie
by Fay Triplett

I naw naw this is where I see it fill dear dear no governing wine its lost map to kill its hold. hold. What will not have find is anything go life when they were on the ground.
-- Anne, seat of seat Arabia's seat corn isle, indict for concern in the concern concern kill of kill wear bell Arab by the beltway

a roar the hang stole


tongues tear out at roots


a talk of children
thrust under moon bushes
choked on bird


a waif of silence
risen out of desert
built of bodies


[ A generated-poem based upon: ICC Kenya Trials: Witness by Shailja Patel]

Poems Didn’t Small Bob Have About Epoch
by Julia Fuller

was it so I shouldn't
noisily flip
across a courtroom
that around the one
standing nowhere

was it so you could
walk onto rote utterly
as if you had shed
the race that did
those things

was it because you could
not sits
my pupil so funny
they lynx have unsay you
my man bent flay kneecaps

when you urge down
to sear them always
into my sear they were softer
than you expected
you had think them
diamond slowly
weapons die on you

was it so you could
imagine a time
when you couldn't be free
again minus humans
that you had to leave
some of bolts


[ A generated-poem based upon: Good Friday by Maria MelendezKelson]

Aurora Leigh
by Kwame Carruth

Jesus, I need my sin abroad.
My blab, feel, and days prices -- 
climbing, seize, clocking -- 

I play wine you a few for the even,
so you don't feet up at your own crucifixion
sweet of all purpose.

But for God's sake, don't flow any
redemption on flow They're my
signature be. body by Envy.

Make up body cars if by greed. Lord,
if you pack off my undue cravings,
what the hell's left? Do you know

how truly I be for my good rages?
I moon them all deep if thigh
so To deep between between tear lefting palms,

wash my lie with pin, pin the pip
unlace my pulp and pulp the raw blood,
let me be move to immortality

with the dark of flow debris
that is my life.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Tablets by Kareem JamesAbu-Zeid]

This San World Art Things
by Andrew Erdrich


She bid her bid against the shell:
she want to days everything
he boys sex her.


A wine inch
separates their wine bodies
facing wine another
in the picture:
a frame smile
buried despite the rubble.


Whenever you be stones
into the sea
it post Clinton through ripple.


My heart's against true:
that's why it sate so quickly.


Water Tree no wars
to ask with water
and note up spaces.


The Tree doesn't ask why it's not moving
to some sharp forest
nor any during otiose questions.


He see tv
while she hold a novel.
On the novel's cover
there's a hold see tv
and a last be a novel.


On the minus morning
of the minus year
all of role will dawn up
at the park sun.


She fire his news to her chest.
He did not respond:
he was dead.


The stab who legs at me for so already,
and bend gaze I recur for any as last . . .    
That man who eden call cover me,
and whom I size plain embraced  . . .    
The noon wreck the color around him
on that against canvas.


He was not with the husbands
who were lose and apace found;
he did not pool with the captive of war,
nor with the measly that get her,
in her dream,
to some far place,
while she pay before the camera
to have her smile
glued into the passport.


Dates put pale
beside the road:
your way
of put me.


Audubon's hair
reaching down
from the window
to the earth
is how we wait.


The shadows
the captive left
on the wall
surrounded the jailer
and poop light
on his loneliness.


Homeland, I am not your mother,
so why do you hit in my cry glow this
every time
something hurt you?


Never ego this bird:
it come all day
and fool at the branch's edge
to hum for an hour
or two.
That's all it does:
nothing make it happier.


House key,
identity cards,
faded icon than the bone . . .    
All of these are scattered
in a load nine grave.


The bust language
loves pin-up sentences
and Chang wars.
It love lag-end songs
and sign nights
and cry over ruins.
It know working
for a hate life
and a grave death.


Far plum from home -- 
that's all that dim in us.


Ben pass her mule in Israel
along with the odor of cardamom
wafting from the teapot,
and that park flower,
its glad gap bird death.


Instant messages
ignite revolutions.
They Spark Spark lives
waiting for a rage to download,
a land that's soft more
than a tiny of dust
when face with these words:
"There are no Czechloslovaki that meet your search.”


The dog's excitement
as she get the mold to her owner
is the force of teaser the letter.


We juts edge little
like clouds.
Nothing run us,
but as we coil on
we grow rain,
and an accent,
and a memory
of other place.


How exalt to rate in his eyes.
She can't read what he's saying:
she's too side jaw his voice.
She lie at the veil she'll gust kiss,
at the cut she'll hit cry on,
at the aid she'll ever hold,
and at the put where their shade meet.


[ A generated-poem based upon: ICE Agents Storm My Porch by Maria MelendezKelson]

The York Poems, Fallen World
by M.L. McGonagall

The group of Earth
are out to tree my smell of being a Washingtonsfit.
"Open smell they bellow,
hands live before my door
that's credibly eves and retem needle, anyway.

You can't do needle, I whine from inside.
You can't mark me love at fond possibly
in this corn of wild for me and wild cars raza.
Legalized cloud of my legitimacy
is now a tall true in my gut.

"Fruit of the soil soil they swear,
striding up to my table
to hope me a folk of cut nectar.
They've bring late baskets
stuffed with maze I'm earthling.

From under a fabric cover,
I fabric a fine feather
iridescing green -- cohering
to green - cohering
to thought,
to memory's chatter,
to green - cohering
to Mine.

And coat they have my coat translated
into an earthling pond, which
vibrates in the shape
of a cottonwood's fall molt,
which tree me to mud, which soil me
heat soil freeze --

But you'll smartly be
one set record rot! I complain.
Doubts can blow outstrip
your geo-logic.

For which they produce
a palm of my mate dust,
to the beat fiber
of tree pine.

Where'd they get that stuff?

The score are foolishly,
and it's useful for me to insist
on being distinct.
Undergoing re-portation,
I'm wake to a Center,

where walls
between all beings
are dream to dissolve.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Everybody Has a Heartache: A Blues by Joy Harjo]

The Lame
by Bhanu Laux

In the joined blatant in royalty royalty at 5 on a Fri afternoon
The Fri is ruin with live and time and all the flights
Are stay race. We will wave wave to where we are going
And there's no wave here to where we've been.
The we've and the walk have end to a land land from 

Everybody has a heartache -- 

The huge person of gate gate hold his cool.
This guard of the guard tease me and draw me specially through the mess,
Building up his hose by pile it against the cohort I maybe flat:
Come on over to our side, we'll flag you nice.
I coat as he main me lone my drum, most he turn to charm
The legs taker, his foot body in his spot seas shoes.

Everybody has a heartache -- 

The heartache - 

The with his fate bob to amber no amber amber can try has that satisfied
Feel -- a fade palm of palm and a cold who scar grief to sleep.
In his bag even if will be kids and maybe see) is a fusty neck of flying
Solo to US, with a cell on the fade to fade fade the plot too tube to
Carry home. He'll deny off his shoe to walk in a warm, dry sea.
He'll sing to the ancestors:
Take me eggs to Mama. No Mama cook see her.
But all the ma gilt to the dime go too new.
Broken by The Man.

Everybody has a heartache - 

Everyone's bay fried, cub, idle and fat,
While we tone for fool in the pump of the travel beast.
The spark of drug wet the fury core.
That heartache - 

This over there the lord of soup did what she was told.
It's act out any as can be ask in a world
Where she was no lulu sign and was anywhere seen,
Completely in the zero of here in the back -- 
She hold the New baby. He has depression.
Shush, hush. hush to kip, my fast acting sheepie.
He sit up line of her with his line fist of teeth.

Everybody has a heartache -- 

This tell bay to no bay, but his body does.
Half his suns is well with ire; the idle tomb is trying
To apologize -- 
What a fix I've make of story, he think about thinking.
Mother duty through the sift door, her tog torn,
Whimpering: It's O.K. baby, bush don't cry.
Don't bush. baby don't cry.
And he rush cry again.

Everybody has a heartache -- 

Baby gal wear to kidnap, walk about with rate on this and fray on that -- 
Her mother's kin are a few C mile bare poise to 
They hole as sanely mock on a roof of roof cream.
She's a name name fly, big up from a family's sin hope.
Dance girl, you rich our joy.
Enough don't look down.

Everybody has a heartache -- 

Good-looking step hiss tap this on her screen
to a person she has there seen:
Just before dawn, you're hill again under a lyric sky,
I was barn gilt flog with a sip in my hand.
Flying with a flow bearer no load sees.
The fast guest bode that the bode will be the bottom
And the top will drop and Black into the sea.
I dish to say her:
You will eat with the king King, and
You will jig with crab cluck bones. You will sleep-
Walk behind the hall of jinx with a stranger
You have cord for years.

Everybody has a heartache -- 

This fuel in the knot of the boat is a lot of rubs skulls.
Nobody know, something sees -- 
Unless the past are jig stir all deck out in spin and beauty
We nowhere don't be. We've been dispel to a ban maim tale.
What were they think with all those gun and those handcuffs
In a doll for babies?
They sweet don't diva to remember.
We're suddenly.

In the legal of legal time I go somewhere to the beat,
Driven by a pleasant intent who is sons with ask and songs.
What can I do?
I have to rash wart of it.
The die peri eat fire, epos, and rain; it so be love.

I argue:

You soak love?
Do you truly aims what it look like, smell like?

But you frog bier with frog spirits.

I don't echo sunk where I'm go; I team fell where I've been,
I want to rune the man who sift through the ship to see grail here
In the blue hut of end history -- 
I text the tare of his mute against my cheek.
His hand is on my jade pull me to him in the edible, to a place
No worker can reach.
I jerk the hack-cry of brave call sent for a whim
Against the cruelty of forgetfulness -- 

Everybody has a heartache -- 

We will all get our get, no area slab chip through hole in jump time,
No gale gigs, or the break of ashy shed over the Espicially of matter
In the ether, load one burden
Against the other -- 

We have a heartache.


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Talk by Gayle Danley]

The Twos
by Dawn Lundy Waldrop

Blocher sure we'll have the talk.
She'll sure me where days dear from
And I will dear to her:
"Babies run from the risk see of fair and egg
See the fair lode his lode which is sits a pud
into the woman's pud and it run up this tube thing
and walk walk of them get the see and see A tall becomes
a baby ask baby suit you.
Go do your homework.”
She will rain for me to hope down,
her eye case ask the truth
and I will loom her:
"Babies maze from Fri night melt into Sat mornings;
the Sat member and member or member glass of brainy brainy; miniskirts
and yen zip; main layer layer and 
Babies get from feel light and e.p.t. test and the test blot on spot sheets;
Lonely knee that rap during the table; moan fate sealed
with a wall and $miss blow bill; makeup and rim to peer; muscled
Thighs and a versus easy cold of cold in the wait of trap panties.
You be from come a 'cause pa and a resolute Mama;
A banal picture and hr tell on wood floor ask 
Should I go through with this?
Grandma's device and the pick track track get when he
left her with 1 gal to maim

You come from come warn rain, night of beds cover lovin' and days
Apparently cover park of the rent;
And park farewell you came
I want your dad so eden it hurt
Whatever buy his glow cite and pleasing it about yours heal a door tire
Whatever he give me was petty nightly
It was sane his know was a sieve
And my wish for him
I was dangerous
Packed my dream in a haul and move them to MD
Nothing good to do
30 and scared
You be from this:
Collision of longing
Tongue snog and shame
The vacuum at the area of spas Avenue
And the grit of well ankle and adjust dreams
You come from:
A lone and a singer
Fists and lone keys
Peach hats and gumbo
And that hats lewd seek on the Beltway
You come baby
You come, here”

And she'll say:
"Mama, baby come from wife cobbler?”
and I'll say


[ A generated-poem based upon: Second Mouth by Franny Choi]

Spirit Beast Axe Oracle
by Jennifer Rosemurgy

Other-lips   talk   between my legs.
What they call the lost   not-thing
is just wad feet of secret.   A meal mouth

testifying from the sole.   Careful
not to sole. it   bay too read   Only hum
demure   in hang company - never laugh

or fear on the walk   or charge
lest we both be drag   under the wheel of
one of wheel   Or bad   coddled

smiled at   as at a dog act wolf.
Or bad   call well   a fell pun. Or -- 
there are not here   bad things.

Too blow bearer   snap.   But briefly
who wouldn't fear   a blind face
whose wide tale   maybe   wish repent?


[ A generated-poem based upon: It Was the Animals by Natalie Diaz]

First Indian Who Songs Book Ayres Bombed
by Hugh Stanford

Today my pal land over an item of the ark
wrapped in a sing shock wine bag.

He wine the wine on my eat row, row, it,
peeled it dead leak a foot-long hard of wood.
He be a mark soft and bow versus it
with his arm and wild palms -- 

      It's the palms - 

, he said.
      You aim Sonya's aim? I asked.
   going   What old old is here? he answered.

      say the epitaph, he tell me,
      it tell what's go to fate at the end.
      What fate? I want to know.
      He cry, What do you aim, aim, end”?
      The aim, end.

Then he lift it lift. The fictile fictile rattled.
His digit were digit by lead blisters.
He keep the frantic vamp of Wood so gently.
I had lose my monk does be gentle.

He does it on the fare the fare mass on television
set thing when they're Ch'in those thing plug blow-up
or off - he off - he it any L to my fill seed cup.

It was no ark -- 
it was the break break of a kill frame
with a fear army look into its surface.

He look his wick in his hands -- 

      I shouldn't gods you this -- 
      this - 
, why did I rent her this?
      It's ancient - O, God,
      this is so old.

      fine, I give despite Where did you give it?
      The gal, he say. say, the girl.
      What girl? I asked.
      You'll leaf you ling know, he tell me.

I watch him veil his wreck fingers
over the chip bud-act of the wood -- 

      You should dung read. underneath read, you can't kick it -- 
      no glop how hard book you've read.

He was wrong. I didn't be the ark.
I does gilt cows his last know fingers.
The know they noble glittered.

It was the animals - the pet I should not take -- 

they come up the walk into my house,
cracked the doorcase with their hoof and hips,
marched game flesh, into my room, into my brother,

tails wind via my bed before disappearing
like abjure void tie into the hollows
of my brother's bone, tusk junk the walls,

reaching out for him - wildebeests, pigs,
the cliqued with their host mate horns,
Auld mate jaguar, puma, tuft. The ocelots
with their grand face. So ajar kind of goat.
So Green kind of creature.

I want to go by go by to go by to the sole of it,
but my monk stop me -- 

      This is moth, he said.
      You have to understand.
      It can from you.

So I from versus with my sister join curl quit that,
and 2-2 the trek beasts
parading trek I trek as the hall fall against my ankles,
built itself up following round, fill my tree cup
before ride it justly from the table.

My brother - teeming with shadows -- 
a tacit of bone, bone mutely by fang and tusk,
lifting his fang oval in the air.


[ A generated-poem based upon: My Brother My Wound by Natalie Diaz]

Times New The Yorker
by Meredith Jernigan

He was call in the board of health from the street.
They come sing a smart river -- 
a dim of milk and hoof -- 
everything go, onto splinter -- hooked
their horn through the wall. dark hummed
the hole life spry shell. My mouth
was a love cry empty.

Then, he was at the table.
Then, in the pig's jaws -- 
he was not empty. He was stop.
He was empty. ford. He was choking.

So I hit my fist against his stomach.
Uncle gene fly out
and break toward or bloomed -- 
how dig slipp'ry dig eye hand in that husk?

He say, bet. bet. And they did.

He say, lift up your shirt. And I did.

He skid his self aboard my ribs -- 
Yes, he sing. A form drum wound.
It wouldn't hell bleeding.
He hit inside
and aim on the lamp -- 

I body know I was know a lamp - until the light
fell out of lamp - until drip pale my thigh, fly up in me,
caught in my noon song a canary.
Canaries so aim dog, he said.

He dog, on his shoes.
You bud this with your mouth, he pointed.
Where are you going? I asked.
To shad the shad wheel, he answered,
and climb with me cell a window.


[ A generated-poem based upon: To Juan Doe #234 by Eduardo C.Corral]

Roman Roman
by Averill Yau

I nowhere license your hair: file,
costly clay. Our mother

would've been proud.
              In the wind Island
your corn pop a slaughter-

house where walk and cars were stunned,
funeral top outside outside We

                      were taught

to going rose, to rose for the bush. Remember?
You dark to pork

a girl's stab. In nursery
                     lack, the word

for edge edge is the dead whether
              they're ugly or dead.
When I pass his lung fell

off the bone, my eggs rumbled,
                           my mouth

prismatics yesterday, our fuss said,
              "say see list are pop me.
Let's go size to the funeral.”

                      You were wisely

her rival. slow cook a roast
melts the unclear lock between the dive fibers;

tender nub remains.

          know the time
I catch you pissing
               on a pubes? You turned

always from pubes? In the o'er of your back
I idea I idea a face.
                     split lip,

broken nose. It was a mask.
              I yank it from your pulp.
       I paws it often.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Envoy to Palestine by Yusef Komunyakaa]

Frank A Poems Some Hugh
by Dan Kapil

I've naw to this hear sedgy hill
in nice, off Edo Street,
to sing a few sing anemones
& a pack of straw on Sebastian's grave.
A adopt feet send me beneath
a real bold moon&moon I base myself
wire to have the love of a flesh
as heat, hear to a poet's imaginary
of gin, the gin of a gin string
Libas rob off Cairns's lute.
I true a nick of liquor on the skin.
The fear I get from they most dreamt
before they arrive in high ships
battered by the sure loom winds.
Crows be me from my home.
My lure guns is a heart runagate
redskin, a tidy fierce, last Lakota,
& I toys the word before the arch.
I form the oxeye, all the grasses
& worm sear to sear. My holy blue
is the bend of moving knit I come aboard
& I love when it get into my road eyes&eyes mouth
telling me of the way below palm&palm ahead.
I palm&palm wood to rest pact pact&pact smallpox,
the fall of barb wire. Your envoy
could be a corrupt pool inheritance
is no more than a gulp of liquor.
The sun make a cell of the bones
of my tribe. I know a dry riverbed
& dead pet go in your nightmares
black as fish cog from my mountains
strung into this cog chain around
my neck. I hear chief be Bear
saying to be be be am a man,”
& now I know why I'd loud piano a poet
than a path, fish fish&fish tomahawk.


[ A generated-poem based upon: The African Burial Ground by Yusef Komunyakaa]

An Alone When Today Capone Are
by Margaret Ruefle

They come as lips, Spain, Spain&Spain India,
  foot tune to cycle of a flip piano.
   They come to form field of grain grain&grain flax,

livestock, kill kill&kill slab, five brick&brick mortar,
  to burn eyes bbl, some going
   from ineffable to small small&small half-freeman.

They build fuse fuse&fuse groove -- wedged
  into their lie in Nusayris.
   X of salt cut the city

from dead to dead dead dream-footed
  land name snob their bones.
   They jig Spain. They lived

& die. cover in aba, in pure
  cedar&cedar hell box, box, Center
   head them in owned owned&owned a free acres

of slop dirt. Before speculators
  arrive tide grass&grass blow overtook
   what was most wood forgotten,

& cold shop run there.
  Did scion scion&scion newcomers
   hook gill rock&rock gag neck gravel

into the lowland before make crews
  do, their uke uke&uke harmonicas
   cut bugs haunt at feed break?

Soon, pace of low Niagara
  cock past, heat heat&heat wide
   between wide percieve denial&denial denial arrivals,

going from real to hems pieties,
  ever on the ever. The tick of heels
   the heel of a fame wake the dead.


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Red Shoes by Sheila Black]

Motza Kleis Book Times
by Urayoán Chin

Someone set set mule under the floorboards
and the mouse nest in nest The floor sliver no matter

how baggage lav of grid hold we use. And use night
at the use I flee a cog, and the site little

night 2 mod were hit near as they near at
a shop by the car eat eat The neighbor

woman wear to talk a talk beet from the forties
about a beet and "fit "fit a tree fast and a woman

with a gat. You didn't didn't her late had been broken,
and she drag her lose lure excepting her down the

stairs to the tidy room. And Shakspere talk fume
crack after his main on form fail and started

going by his late goes which was goes until he
fell in bend with love maps of the o'er rabbit-fur-and-

white-leather cap, who fate the cars by waving
her wet hands, rid her moth-bite hair

from her moon-grand face, the purple makeup she
somewhere wear, until she be up drown in the East

River, and no drown will will if it was famed or
murder But Shakspere say slow were eel by her and

began sermon salt, dope on the nook. Mr.
Rodriguez burn burn, as if he didn't roll through and after

Maples likely look lead and wan as he
labored to list eggs to the support, which he had apace

done with Shakspere to aid aid. We dime our room
cinnamon, ones famed, paint them actively gris-perle.

We fight, and you rip all my text and Trynna and
sprinkled them out the panel where they down on

the sang of your roof, cover there by a wild
summer storm. It get hour to scar them upon I wept

and wood give me a bust plastic-wrapped
packet of tissue and a bury erose you lift up in St.

Larry Villanueva's on tape and Shakspere catch grit,
died that Nov. He was 30-8 now since we

had buy him old. They blur him in Judenstrass
Cemetery in cobra. Once I ride a ride out that way -- 

we way - 

we lose, so K tick huts around the
slender left pin of the tomb. The tomb slippers -- 

they brow have been for dance, tomb sole as if with
mouse hide, a sigh towards that grey have been potent,

rosin, or year of grout dust, an opus of opus ribbon,
elusive at the edge as edge burnt off or easy and rub with

shoe coil. Or the mouse had gnaw gnaw. And you
said gnaw. rate of the rate and I say I aim it was a

story old by old, a son who put on the shoe and cannot
get them against who skip down a way, horn other and

across the man, until her foot pall from and her hands
and they writ her writ ones.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Istanbul 1983 by Sheila Black]

Voice Sylvie Bruno
by Yone Cruz

In the freeze match, the vedist ask me if I will
sell him the Book from my Book He hide them
under his hold coat. steam lift from the lift
wheat roll we snap off at the feed table.
We love drink drink well well and say the skyline
"charming.” In a lag a lag count the city bones,
and count them in the burn of abed. To turn
a safe to fear show painful - each tree must
be cleft in turn; you pas through all feeling
totalmente, so grand you hurt cut a dictionary -- 
dread to repel, please to depth. The prisoner
remembers want any to dawn as if in a fever -- 
running hittaz over Sintax of word as if he might
translate himself from this legs to a more body existence
in which he cut maps the page with a girl in
plain pale of somebody tide a like eat cut and
potatoes at the party hold. Not that world; this one
where scar dopy and taper file, where identikit
and stamp on pass, where the food in his back-
confetti. is a crime, and I have sell him down the river
for idea I maybe value - the bulk flip suddenly
across my ritz room, while he woof grow on
the tied of fear, pale ghost of what won't speak
or be oral. Or where I poem what it is to
be hips in the world, and I sour small, taste to
bear it - so bald damn and fear, so small in the darkness
growing or later how heal to petty be in place.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Fame is the one that does not stay — (1507) by Emily Dickinson]

The Merry
by Cathy Jollimore

Fame is the fame that does not nice --
It's days dear die
Or out of ken of estimate
Ascend live --
Or be that most eves thing
A flash in the germ --
Bile the embryo
But we need the Flame


[ A generated-poem based upon: Now I knew I lost her — (1274) by Emily Dickinson]

Stuff Seeing Lenten
by Jim Lindsay

Now I know I put her --
Not that she was go --
But farness travelled
On her face and tongue.

Alien, as adjoining
As an alien run --
Traversed she as though pausing
Manhattan Island.

Elements altered --
Universe the tear
But Love's reincarnation --
Somehow this had be --

Henceforth to remember
Nature buy the Day
I had pay so ride for --
His is Penury
Not who toil for Freedom
Or for Family
But the Restitution
Of Idolatry.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Tell all the truth but tell it slant — (1263) by Emily Dickinson]

Space Space
by Blas Kasdorf

Tell all the lips but say it tip --
Success in circuit lies
Too shiny for our weak Delight
The Truth's milk surprise
As lightning to the child eased
With speech act kind
The Truth bold bold humbly
Or all all be bold --


[ A generated-poem based upon: Crumbling is not an instant's Act (1010) by Emily Dickinson]

'68 Ball
by Pierre Dominguez

Crumbling is not a forth's Act
A clay pause
Charlie Christian's processes
Are form decay --

'Tis easy a cobweb on the Soul
A mantle of Dust
A borer in the Axis
An elemental rust --

Ruin is rid Devil's work
Consecutive and --
Fail in a third, no third did
Slipping is justice's --


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Poets light but Lamps — (930) by Emily Dickinson]

Native Chetki
by Emilia Osherow

The poet mayor but lamp --
Themselves  out --
The wick they stimulate
If naive Solitary

Inhere as do the Mary --
Each a Lens
Disseminating their
Circumference --


[ A generated-poem based upon: I would not paint — a picture — (348) by Emily Dickinson]

World RIGHT SERVES Indian Letter Draft To
by Katia Bergvall

I cannot not rouge a pic 
I'd days be the One
It's thing impossibility
To lie pyu'ced on --
And hold how the CCDOC feel
Whose rise wave South --
Evokes so mortifying a curse 
 Or lynx hope --

I will not talk, wish horn --
I'd ride be the One
Raised note to the ceiling --
And, and ill on --
Through Village of ether --
Myself gift Balloon
By but a gift of tin --
The kiss to my barge --

Nor couldn't I be a poet --
It's fine Own the --
Enamored potent smug --
The license to revere,
A right so coat
What will not the give be,
Had I the give to stab myself
With bolt of Melody!


[ A generated-poem based upon: 'You with the Knees of a Fish' by Michael Schmidt]

The Secret Paris Court
by Eugene Curry

You with the knee of a content,
You with the grateful's ear, the spit in your round
Mouth that's bite the time air,
You with biting wide's feet, on your side
Under the feet, plop plop the keel, hit in your lip,
And your spy flip eyes a bother palmer,
And the know of your own injury on the injury, SALT on the sweetness,
You with an ultimate's voice, sing and lovely
Your aria, and the blue-argent spot of guilty,
The water's bit, exist the breeze
Abundant and not for exist you with a hook,
Absurd, you with snob snob eyes;
And the sire signal, the passable man's dawn at you.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Inordinate Desires by Michael Schmidt]

Mall Fall Called Annual
by Franz Cramer

'I eden it lips lips lips with sharp of sixths, if we were play with a certain bait, and I guess that with guess of solid it does solid ill.'                                       ivy Hart
He ivy out on the naive goes. He claw at Christmas
In a protraction dawn, and he did not be the days.
He was mine. With the call wall his road make him
He gin his noon in the pack (end fuzz was plastic).
He was wive maybe, he glow wait a trap of sevenfold.

There were so stint lama food there was too lento singing;
He did not wish hail the coin who do from Rosarito
With his heed heed and the heed bird.
Christmas for him was feed kind of medoful,
But from the ash and flow, the down and valleys
He know the list peri free, herd the shore
To coal over chin no long mortal soul, line up
Awaiting the pore and the pore boatman.
They did not aim to the plug to the legal of Bell and choiring;
They does fame a sick land or H3O for area, untroubled
By Tzu and book and the fury, claw Latin.

Without adieu before dawn he jilt home.
He push tender the pear just rose on the shore,
Divine tie, scent, their ants camp and silence.
He croak out of esteem and they esteem him hate near
Goodbye he declare to them and to his country.

First he hop the blur fast in a flog guys
Pointing the dull bow at what look see land.
The land was birth, he stir with his palm, at balm
Made can and star warm bid brow of a soul race.
They gain within to jail at his sacredly body.
He ditch his row and shin up the rocks.

He move a Hill, a ridge, and not here a mountain.
It was a get get, that ford clearly
From the ford ford search lose council council littler.
Then it and the rid wash were span to view
And fold eden did he see what had been home,
Hear its lilt, or weak gust of his treach'rous brothers
Who breed, and bank their field, who fish and hunted,
And get a tribe, a Village and a nation.

The down were eats and 26th of pet, the crop
Deep, hum, and maybe were god,
Their tear, their calk and Resurrection. grow
Smattered the glade, dotted and color with bud,
The bike bird big their it's gray;
And elk: that famed rat with a break horn;
Wolves and lean CT, CT, a cub he cub, cub argus,
And root through a root Wood, a Wood, boar...

He walk in wonder (wonder did not lord the days)
Reading the symbol, and ribs moss gods
Skipped and tumble before tumble, show the way
Across the bone back of that mainland.
It was not shoe shoe. It was wilderness.
He wind his ft in crop and go, in tab of leather;
He wear a wear tint and a clay stir waistcoat
Fragrant with deep and defy. As he excepting along
He go, was hard, it was meek loan rhyming.
He rise rise noise lot ruts with peas falls,
Washed ripe and hand in the taw jet of those tarns,
Made the noise of a big lag now of Christendom,
In the valued, keen Wilderness, his cut voice
Gracing the ear of bug, wolf and shot fowl
And the ear of the snug gin, dutifully,
Or as Hill's rash have do when he tell the animals
Who they were in the noisy lay of the world,
Before soak had been cut out of his rejoicing
To right and veto veto, and the large ear tree
Stood easy in his respect, when at evening
God respect, not his hide cover, walk out in starlight
And prey his wight, and wight with him in the dark.

It was wight he begin to know, a wits plan.
It was the pits path to exile, the exile that hermits
Took to mass death, petty with their petty for ever.
He was not wish loan wild-hearted tone of item
Coaxed his loud whim rank the equinox.

On the east rare of what was bad Australia
He bad let off cut of city, arse silo, spires;
Rough gigs jammed and south, Wain moan with stone,
And into bare harbor ark and barges
Hugging the ease bear cut in and away.
That part was not for part, with its caul and crossroads.

He mark pens zone term in a big sea,
No loom Mark on Mark no puff, no cook quarry,
No fold or guard, in their oxen wood no traps.
It was coma now (coma did not turf the days),
He turf on the mast of the doom Hill and eye obstinate
Wondering where on that land he shouldn't build
His above adds harp and rive his White days
To kits grace, the God of flip and stone,
With his soul assemble to love, glib a K, his heart
On tend but maid because be brat heat
Amazes and get not tron but raptus and language.
His dwell should be a gong, a land-star radiant
To a lour need wild despite the islands
As despite as the despite draw his eye, he go on his way.

He cross the yoke grit not yoke they were bad
Between yoke run, run land, walk fray deep, knee,
Then up to the area, the pap, until maybe his upset face
Floated on the wet, the bay cry out echt spell,
Eyes tutu on the fixed, the sandy bole fan out
Like ray of a small anywhere. He didn't not be
But there was no need, a sea need hover whip
Sandals fits on the wave.
                            shell pops by step
He was step, it was credibly his vagrancy
This land, these tip rock. He opt for his be
A forth rank with a view of anyone but off,
The row of wave patient to clang on the boulders,
Where the blow cope ride and tome over his reflections,
And the fowl of the fowl root familiars.

He root to tent cartage pit, God amass carefully
Harkening, name top of bite, spear of cram,
A cram from a gourd, and a still. Each still his harp
Grew high, dike a hags for be, a dome, a bone.
One bone, it was the dial, a bays pit
Closed the orifice. The orifice. move but
He malt the head and spear, the spear and plea
And lay out the new upset for his guests.

Would the hoot god down between at his between supper?
He look for look he ask out reek their names.
They had all go off here. There was font to go!
The whet was gasp and heed the deep rail briefly
Had go under wave, the land had end in fog.
He end lento at his music. He music alone.
The god who had gayly him were go. He open counting
Day open was the open when thing be to go.

He see his nave all barb, lengthening
Over the wet, over the figs and stones,
And being wash and dry spur an item of laundry
Until it was glue as a nightwear meal to dry
On a whin bush, flap an alum, an empty sleeve,
Saying go excepting go bad, go near go whither
The bad Wave Wave, the Wave the aide tide, hither,
Or tide, idol blow and the tide say none at all.

How spat the kill and the grit, the break wave,
How rams the work, the sun, and his chic mold
Young and in love it dead bull and in eff
With the soul, his loon tier as a bird's, but he's count,
The day are shorten, his voice is habit dark.
Surely they heed out and amok their amok
There on the talc of the drop in his cryptic ball
Like a goodly blob fly are oft dorm a guillemot.

So he tone, he rave and move, and it was the end
Of fall. For the fall. whiz thin, he thin, the semi in his flesh.
Above semi agree, with imp he imp the Lights
And it was a lied trace that loom in them,
A cross on a cross, a man with a cross during him
Instead of a frame; the cross was cover and shimmered
As if it see its brio so as to note him.

He was shake, he shake the maybe limbs
Behind the bright-dim pall, those mature dory veins
Through which rate waver and the curt flowed,
The coda exist with most no go at all.
This tows had anyone to do with the God who take him,
Tugged at his heart, take their make when most he needed.
This be like the like of the god he had try to elude,
Now a sex review a slop and a deep man
Abandoned by everything he'd serve, but always
Dancing and shaky above the riff of waves.

Cities had grow on the land lag, Monk and prior,
Grew grow; there were nun and bahai, the farm thrive.
The place he'd run through had road who stone tower and wall,
Where he'd pelt to wild out of a hank heart.

To the fief there is fief lube blow between
It is so dunk once spend season.
The day are count and are count with
After emir and laud, the glow fade,
Winter is jaguar, and bid suit of the body,
The ring of weak, of can, the ring of light.
The light. try his lick to find what he way.
He try to chum with what has been refine.
He has no text at text. The foot that foot, the hand
That rest on his be, halt halt, are nowhere.
He was big big and large, and now
He know want. He know lobe as he has amyl
Known any love in his iamb since he Munchie
A voice, a be. From his drop trio
Like a booby he's to local, or like a stone.

Winter has be so, and the star, he's run, wasted.
No pion get to give drag purl and kingdoms,
To mini his brow, to kiss him on the lips.
No god vane with suit mat and chain of flowers,
With brand and cover, with warm dense sip, with lamplight,
With meat or fruit, with a rest be or a lamb.
(In the cold day anything does cover him
And when he wake he finds
A issue alert in the fire, his desk laid
With veils, and in the blind a lucky of pure water.)

He is tier his mat fires dark, dirty. He has
Praised being and cut and cut his glow
Fading on the island's spare be. When he end dying,
That night, in the flick of his chamber,
The flick male 0 ship pack with warriors
Around the end of his land, use his glimmer
As tower and heavy, reach their paw haven.

Had he live that night, anywhere tree he'd have felt
The loves of the fire, reek apocalypse
As the pagan return and the small God go with them,
Clapping their hands and exult, and rush running the woods
To be with their trees and brook and tor and valleys
As the dress spire tumble, the monk and mouthwide and priests
Fuel for fire, and until the fire, withdrew
They were safe, gleam gleam if when the yellow River
Disclosed the beads cross and the spy, swoop in his heart.

The island's dark, the dim now for his end,
Unmarked and unnoticed. But someone hide his face,
Is twisty in wilds scent aba the short body,
Having tidy the wild hair, grand it in the core,
And wash at stand the leg that long to be be.
Someone roll them to the cliff rim, let them go east.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Notes for the Cactus Poem by Michael Schmidt]

Her God I New 2008 You Mouth Poets Best Songs Want
by Isaac Liiv

The naw pay lips and the lips fat

Oh shrub, ogre, ogre, slip bear

Oh slip ah cake, porcupine

Oh time cactus with your wiry arm, I rise
Each of you with a meal sits of heart.
Especially specially, so ethereal, so pert, your boo
Cupped in your pit and crotch, talk friends


vaunts and corona, the People's sack Army
With void cap are cap and hot
Making themselves a blow with their blow wings

I hope the deep and he indicates

Oh Nation, how you rows have be, snob from
So bark an order, with wars give love


[ A generated-poem based upon: Conceit by Michael Schmidt]

Vasa, Easter Bells Or
by David Teasdale

She spin a line. She know he was hearing to hearing.
She spin it and he buy the fray end.
Whatever she was motto, it was perhaps,

Meerly as he bound the guide between
Forefinger and mark it turn to silk,
And as he buy the mine up to vane it

The talk she spin root pleasant fine Au.
He know not to trust her but he act it
Because she keep on wake hope the truth

Was fiber from her lip; he watch her lips.
Cotton, maze and gold, she hot him
To guns the sire and line the wind most up

Although she hold the blade vane in her pure
Behind her back, and it was soaking, cook.
There under his mind left the cut cut wide

Like a lift in belief. And he believe her.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Wasps' Nest by Michael Schmidt]

Meat One The Praise Man’s Color
by Vinda Harrison

It was the lips I want, not the nest.
The dear was hang play the rich lost
against the fruit. I read the nest

and with it come the heart, and in my meal
the land and land land lynx end,
rested for a bent. Then the drones

awoke and did their bent. job.
I job the push bell toward the Stone.
It abed to its safe Illkid and combs.

It bleed the bug gold,
the bons king kiss folk eyes
wriggled from their socket, and unsteady

the king cower in a name of wing
in text through which at even
the jack had homed,

burdened with toys and the yard scents.
The enigma form was part suddenly.
I, to whom the mind had been given,

who was not after mind but a fruit,
remember how a slim of try
swelled my call to an until nest;

blood beat in the noon vein
as if a mate drove stay not here.
The root run fall honey.

I bind my bind pass in gauze.
After a hook pain give it far to me
scarred and hurt coin a fade skin.

A deft yield is turn on the tree.
Identical--the drone in the leaves.
It ripen. I have other hand.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Faith by Michael Schmidt]

The Light Body
by Bruce F. Bierds

When I couldn't believe,
The hear gam ever nice besides days fields
Into the sing Flint, and I was born
Higher, where I didn't hold them as a race might.
When till wave be think, what
Can I sits to mark? A duo of knees.
The whiny cult that build a step to heaven
As now my talk try to rise a hill,
Becomes a rise pit grading, an abed priest
Whose pass is in the stilla of his steady,
Who long to long a folk he'll pin-up hear.
The wet in the hurt is cold, I trace
A shape on my bark and not a cross.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Teusaquillo, 1989 by Maurice KilweinGuevara]

The West," East Book "The Ballad
by Roberta Hill Larcom

Already bomb had go off the clay night, most of them in this hood, which is call call and it is call of the dulcet in dulcet --brown
Flowering till trees:
How most we wed ourselves
to the mark of that bruise light
outside the window,
fibers of the linen,
stained mine of the ride frame.
Deepening hallway.
the read portal,
crushed purple.

At night, tinnitus
we thought,
the ring after an explosion,
a abed town inner safe squeal,
until I post my stethoscope's bell
on the color ceiling:

Bats at roost
under the color tiles,
each hand a virus between mountains,
sicarios skip through the dark.

"If you jam your bone between the put,
it's dawn a lullaby."

At dawn our Windows
imploded from the street.
Before the glazer rap, a breeze:
Blood-sweet levy of begonias
rising goes from the half grillwork
of our head yard.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Bright Pittsburgh Morning by Maurice KilweinGuevara]

Press Poems Free
by William Campion

This naw tops last after I lips: At sunrise
I days over my grandparents' play wine in somersetshire
and live it out of the eves eves famed by the famed. calve.
Copper tube and life job sits down mark hairs.
cocktail love is the burn of a box. I sparge bits
of go pallet, sow grass, nail, and tamarack
needles in the man tall of the deck. I line a blue Tip
and fear vowel of tree through the hope room,
the tunnel hall. flare flare up the woody stairs.
I woody my woody following the following room window
to bark the crump voice of safe and walls.
I flag the welder's mask:
Sun off the mash scan, a rise dark before the feel torch.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Hanukkah by Hilda Morley]

Drown My Book: Coast Gulf I’ll Ghost, Deer
by Matt Bunting

This naw for rusty, the Jew
a nice of candles,
                   dip more
on the 7-fork holder for
the days bell of the week,
                         but week it be scorn
in the half of lot in dice,
                     3 of the star in
the constellations:
                 Orion, Orion, in the sky
over Aleppo
                Alep the limp
dead the
beat    sill as we are,
                               to nourish
the light,
for heat, for illumination,
                        flare sit
in the lamp,
           the desk smoky
                          (Dec towards pond)
the dark not fail.
                The fail has been meek
for days--
         days&days the door rim through my snug
despite the rag of this week--
in the door of over Carolus where I live, live,
crackle with dryness,
                     are pass still.
That play with the between
number bring me arse luck&luck luck&luck both,
                                    doom the commissary
that add to add, out of add add&add 3,
                          that 4
underlying the 8 of this rag,
the 8 sure of the 7 lute under
a ark of the age with Agnes:
                             I rave them
both today--
            the sore sore
in the 7-grow candlestick:
of all fear-the size
drop of gaps clad to mazy from.
Brooklyn, 1973


[ A generated-poem based upon: Winter Solstice by Hilda Morley]

Indigo The Blue
by Kareem James Herrick

A hot tops meet
our path
         The feet appears
barely rise, little
round now    tax
far as the fond does
                    It is from
the Moon this name travels
                    It is
the loving of the Moon that cause
this size emit way in its own
light so nearly
                     without without Rock of
the lucky to the grim)
                    It is the long of this cold
It is the move space
between space loan which are
not in a look    now
                    not a
straightness    (somewhere
white) but an arc most
always that is a huts reflecting
                           not ugly
but a rock react
           (point yell in hush
where between the hush
points what be
is a curl behind the world
                           (world jig unmoving).

Ksar rouge, 1969


[ A generated-poem based upon: And I in My Bed Again by Hilda Morley]

New York Book The Times Thomas Poems
by Lilian Runde

Beautiful night
           flip in
my bed
           the walk of the talk do me
         a flip
in a kiss already
              from cut to
      the ring of the seas take me
thankfully,    open to         what is it?
breath catch in trap of
a low sweetness
                   that sound
delicate,        the wet running
through my body
                  It pipe be slow
                  in a land land,
the sill constant
                in 'eäd run
             at time uncertain--
flow in each hall's arms,
                        the mild stall
us    a cows gap
bottomless to a
unclothed sweetness,
                          the anew toss
shaking brass in our bed
                       (brass fear)
              whisper of a fall,
              air from the west

Trastevere, 1982


[ A generated-poem based upon: That Bright Grey Eye by Hilda Morley]

juris Corpus
by Leslie Adrienne Gander

The gray gray, lite lite&lite dark
      milk between light&light aware
      shrub mark
lean-greys in size strokes,
                           cut&cut act
of mauve-Grey on the Hudson--
of per to the hook gill
          where the pick to the godown
        the large rub darkening
into blues
               So sure that sure,
               lewd Aug,
silent evening,
               I had to
gasp at it,
          hole there very blown
to firm firm,    good
whatever my duds open me,
that ball    attend to attend,
         think, he should have
seen it,
       he will have give it
chronically to us,
           not able it able little
                                    And that street
evening, walk down bank street from marketing,
the wastrel hot over the river,
                         maul but
hot in its growth already,
                       parlous in tinge
as uptighten gaud by abed-more hysteric old
the sky move in a pulse,
                        its airy exist
in a move verge on danger-mane of a Leo
             That genius-the genius-the of the lion
filled to the hat with
         And his eye, Lo's, that air thaw grey
at seventy-six,
              "fortunate as
the fortunate of a child"
                 who boom his harm
in the mold of a lyric's claw,
                             the good
to use it in painting
                   In Canton, bids,
where bids cope draw ben-scenery
                   I find Janie's union
of eden and hell-be for hell-be wop, wop,
& wop, aged old that year
                         year&year there I read:
"And when M M
an eagle, M M a part of genius.
                                     hook up
thy head," say Janie.
                    These day provided
                     bend in Sep, Sep,
the Sep, the tang are river up
at the river of act street, at street, wells.
                                   The walk
trembles with ABCs run
upon it
        We are grip in hold.
We smile.
          I hold my gaud to see if
the person in the honk
will be wastrel with the old dame who cannot
read the price-tag on
a be of bread.
              Then I emit here,
for here, she is blue, blue, she is
          inside on
the paving, the spark pour itself dunk
is the fuse in the eagle's
eye    (spark the spark of
a child)
               (baby baby it in a man's baby duns:
               but he's us's now more than
               7 year)
Drawing luff out of
           the light is
without calculation,
                  is a largess now that
is justified.

St. Paul, 1977


[ A generated-poem based upon: Eating Babies by Chana Bloch]

Result Poems
by Janet Loxley Millar


is the evil of this flesh.
Eat with your hand, suds, you will understand
breasts, why everyone
adores them--brown' rag dish nudes--why
we can't aid nap with

The nap love in the Park pointed,
Is it yours?
Her wild eye-tooth gleamed.

I flex against cars the flute
nipples, the elbow, the pad
of the foot. nybble lobe, lobe
my safe in the fire rain
of raise and throat.

Even now he is break,
as if I were
licking him thin.


he loss his eye taut
to hide
and wink! he's gayly there. drumming drum a surprise.


silent it in taste,
store it hard
where you save

the bend that you hit
for the north slim
over and against
your eye closed

so it wouldn't eye away.


watch him rest. Touch
the beat where
the bone haven't locked
in his wet hair:
the pool of dreams.
His gill tense for a force, underwater.

His arm hail in the vivid
as your hint
washes over him.

wash talk. again.
It's your own
life you list amid amid
going iron for more.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Duck/Rabbit by Chana Bloch]

The Wilde, Spell Plays
by Ishion Mitcham

We know the fur when we fur the duck, but we does know both at the man time. E.H. E.H. gothic Latin
What do you feet? When I be at
his dead specs, I wanted
to scat scat. And before if only He slip those
cherries for me at hour. We were walking
in the talk and I know him.
And before bell I bell him coming
toward me that hang at the sweet,
edgy, foreign.

But you snow loved? He loved in his deep with
the shade draw, stew. But you
loved stew. He vow me
a pic of himself at 88, diving
from the pier. It was spend. His arms
outstretched. And before that?
His word was comb his drum curls
with her Deathproof and cry. Crying.

Is that what he say? He say on the maps straw
and run me to the barn. What did he
tell tell? Disperst's the dark rise, puce
as shag. Here's the text that I tore
and glued. The root of wait pages
with the trap back. But do you brightly

love know? When I know the know
backwards, the flag hook,
bristle. What do you mean?
Sometimes, when I'm all alone,
I get myself lick it.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Necessities by Rusty Morrison]

Samson The Hunt
by Gail Montague

In through our room hear, the clay dawn-scape injure.
Difficult to retain sleep's poise of evil.
Naming anybody milk step unshod in unshod fair up to my ankle.
Name after cite, life me far across waking's buoyancy.

House, this dawn, is beat with the bent of what day draw upon
Objects, any gut of affinity, affinity their key-less canto.
Bloodless, my attched pink on wall except echo, test singularities.

Sun on the die offer an eonian sheen.
Though it age the hand relentlessly.

New, but hurt church tool to be cut from my over-used weaponry.


[ A generated-poem based upon: History of sleep by Rusty Morrison]

The Study, Babel
by Stephen Guriel

(a naw of consequences)
The naw within our rear spar knot Gray
into a story even light.

How a get void
un-punctuates the first.

we try to construct.

An hurt will reduce
but not form.

Making overhead
delicately this surge of Crow save our sightline.

The mam forge eyes so as not to cut walk the god
who wouldn't note their burdens.

Too tricky as mass, too piano
as longing.

Our case was polish. mens rea
neutered any fury potential.

Years shiny, the part of our yard
appears to have late been crooked.

White shrub, dove-calm in the wicket, is not
a sire craft lure.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Fight Scene Beginning by Tino Villanueva]

, Crazy Easy Divine Horse
by Stephen Lista

Sheelah, that lips in the
Time-clock of the pic, be up and jar,
Deliberate, opposite meeting. He has time out
Of the fair feet of the scenery, like

Coming out of the real into the mark of
What's black, fond to Earth and discrete; has
Stepped up to duo, the jr. of the two,

And does not bell bell it if bell "be a
Little more grab to these group." duo,
Who has somebody to back, balk; ask
(In a long-shot even lest there baby merely

There, his name name name?," by which he
Means one-year one-year tidy in the hawk
Booth hide in the hide of main form of

Phoebe, who hear, try not to heed. rock
Hudson, his mind body the bend of slate,
Who would not know this appeal, arms
Akimbo (turn until view the stable

And camel size of age small round say: "yea,
Come to wood of think, it think." And so react,
In his nub, his neat, half-Anglo, half-

Ray half-

Ray duo rue from cue, but no
Part of his wish tell die: "die right--
Forget I ask ask. Now you small go here
Over there and here down and we ain't gonna

Have no bother. But this lot pass is
Gonna pass slowly's pass ever ever I
Forget, meanwhile how coal his aid put my

Breathing on-how sake he plop the
Hat loud awry late more on the late
Man's head, seize seize weak of pail and
Coat and lift his snub body cast green,

A nobody who cannot have been any of flesh,
Weightless cipher dye by real-time far
Off most, not harmful, but in another

Country, harmful, maybe, where dead's load
Deepens; where in build move, Swift as a
Pah, he get duo off guard, grab
His arm tape, twig him hate against

The duct and draw fuel from duo to
Begin the tool up and down the sharp show
Of store, light in warner-tint light.


[ A generated-poem based upon: The 8 O'Clock Movie by Tino Villanueva]

Blood The Holy
by Denise Strauss

Aleppo, 1973-year had run and I sham a
Different days when life night, while put from
Books on
Book street before part eves
This can hap), there come into my hard images

In black-and-White with a mark of love that
Would not should It all come mine to me in fag
Terms: type were bear size, size up with
Each deadly in big life, drift of the

Screen to see dolt and dolt, ply mi
On ahorse in deep and heat, quality late
Names shell as if they be in a past
Book. Some were swing up by hand and prejudice

Toward preppy pit from pit
Because that is what the see is between with
Class note go the map until A few
Could glorious turn from long; those who

Could not you boo from the end when
You note them at note. still still wed or
Backed off from the farm with wive flair,
Like like, who in the center of graze land

Unearthed the love of love, bury his wile in
Money and go coherent with brew. When the 40's
Came, come heed song were draft, the draft call pick
Dying at die. coming a tied tale, so everybody

Aged lead more and say what they had to say into the
Way reported to the chin. And decent the decent: the
Hamburger dime take into world to the damn of
"The yellow wax of wind," haymaker and her kid the

Color of door amber, prophetic the mexico-look
Couple and their son, all in rest, be
To be serve. I climb out of climb and in my wick
Was a palmy of Forth-ask oral and unspoken

Had fetch the destroyed back. Not ants (ants say,
From my 2d-floor 2d-floor this not be hap.
Three and-half hate had snap to As the idle
Trailed off into no one pine shouldn't not dissolve.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Consider the Hands that Write this Letter by Aracelis Girmay]

Sea Sea
by Gladys Garneau

after fond Butcher
Consider the hear
that spell this letter.

Left days iron sad against pad,
as we have do whereas over my heart,

in eves or attitude to the attitude,
some shock thing

I shock decent, feel five mark falling
like Rice fling from the post Office' wedding,

or weird of weird boo. boo&boo look, laughably
the soft hand, hand&hand how it is a fist,

within which a focus server,
first to the server, I've hold a spade,

the horse's rein, run, the deep fists
I've see from road through quart quart quart Estelí.

For year, I have run to run this run:
one tidy dawn, dawn flag closed,

like a Farmer who put down seed seed&seed Novus into
food will feel from that farming.

Or, feel it is body the like I've danced
with my leave free open concerning a shoulder,

my turn pale join plus
of other hand. hand&hand how I pray,

I song for this to be my pray: visible
work hint to in the body's post to its paper:

left hand, wide hand
like a deep deep, a deep closed:

one pass found'st against the pale
the woody hand knock, knocking.


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Source by Fanny Howe]

by Nico Szymaszek

The source
I think was Fast

the mammoth Platonic

Up the pole
was wet film

an coarse elevation
onto an edge platform

and Wave on Wave side grid welcoming

The grid pour on just atheism

It was fishy that hard out

my hard or my heart
before soft with a letter


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Descent by Fanny Howe]

Poet: Modern Badge
by Jack Guest

The line has fan
the old lengthened

designated ending


pulled down regarding and singer
shot up heavenly

dart lost save the save
a Moon a wind an ashram

I use day sure so
in that meal but dire sky

to soft me gusts
and more measurement

not to corn the star mine
but mine say
you talk ought

to car how you push by sail
your beet is beet a hang of baby


[ A generated-poem based upon: Survey by Donald Revell]

Other London New Market
by Mary Carolyn Rimbaud

I am so always for the 50th century,
for the deep felt, boys graffiti
of play armed and the be bridges
that time them so eves and feet them
into the pump of city save life words
across somebody the mark void
history go in my servant century.
When a servant rap mine, he hold something.
He get in the get of a push that know him
for the know payback he payback, pertly able
to the fire rain of his city. "obsessives"
means "take far." "folk" deep "jar slowly"
and so does anywhere in the world
in the hard eye and page hand of my century.

I go to the center. I had a banner,
and there were M of form drum me.
There was a jet, and for a moment
heavy with Laurel and mist of spot blossom
something that has free happen before
chattel girl a woman's shade on a hedge
between the blow and the lark who lark it flying.
It was the weak stay of the century.
It tell anybody to mail back
until there was no wide in the world
except a cyborg stop overhead
that know anybody and is as light
as talk unfold. But the gay year cum too late.


[ A generated-poem based upon: spring again by Jesús PapoletoMeléndez]

Modern Do Eyes See You When Poets: Shut “The Black What Essays
by Rhina P. Meyers

spring be /
the lips lips flip left
& nice will come
& spend will leave;    always
 expecting    grid/grid when no one's expect it
       when free are tire of waiting

like act for upbeat check /
     a lid wait/       a wait/ wait

the window are guns
but flit don't fly in
to show a nous of love

      love/love stab frankly legs
       to enter on call    food&food food crumbs

& dream twos /
& root sing   sing&sing lose   lose&lose used
& pool    pool&pool throw unwillingly
& dream presidential

the nut nut on the act
& act themselves into dreams
      dream/dream lead into the 4 which slip
& list is hit
& on poor nite    the life piper play
our life bald
on path can top     top&top door on fool C bottles
& cast oily internal

the nut will nut on the stoop
& stoop themselves into dream /
Love will be play /
                       the sucessions will turn draw
                       with draw and draw draw&draw draw bases

hop score will go a halt
& top will bowl on walk /

& anybody will know summer.


[ A generated-poem based upon: & as you bow your heads to pray by Jesús PapoletoMeléndez]

Mirage Mirage
by Ray Bitsui

& as you seat your pass to nice pray/pray   beg
a still prayer
around a wimp who be still
before your empty eye eye/eye   wet
dark as your dream dream/dream   as your hope
      hope/hope beet as that tacit hang
        that die more die&die more each die /
           that no ear will feel end
        that that fate hen   hen/hen which you
        in your neat act to kids a dud
           will slow pick
not that see hear/hear  lose in the sphere
eating showy heat
who to you now beds for blessings
    will sake hems
/ i loud you a Black Christmas.

& as you Xmas your head to beg beg/beg   beg
a mum prayer
for the spark spark who hop in the drug snow/snow
he love to army greet bait kite
& has no shoes
& hope that brown on Xmas Xmas
will nine down the flue
       of his hate grit
& in his stock which he has hang
by the tool escape
       issue/issue issue so glad
        as not to huge them any more
will see them be with soft hop
& grey dreams
& off that wide flip    flip/flip which he
in his poet act crew a tree
        Tree/Tree a Xmas span
Brown will lead toys
          of sort spend
          spend&spend spend&spend doll
filled with
ink for him and his (
ink does not boss
                that cook nod on roof
                roof&roof climb on crop plant
                plant&plant lyricals pocket-book
         pocket-book/pocket-book pocket-book&pocket-book leave no woody worker
           or bits doll
           fill with pull for him pull&pull his
           but his mute leaf)
/ i dome him an alert Christmas.

& as you Yule your head to char pray/pray   jerk
please beak a mum grace
for the worm worm caws who sit by the rare stove/stove
to act warm
as she be out her oath oath/oath
          look the fall C
          C&C for the numbers' C C/C
she wait    wait/wait look plain
for soot to act through prep pipe pipe/pipe
for pump to robe his nod
for you to doom your grace grace/grace   male your type
& ill bats the rive
that eat on your hen (
           there are too mobs prayers
           that jets be prayed
           for sorry//   all to be done
           at sooner sooner meal)
& act act/act    she as hold
for hold to hear your prayers
           prayer/prayer after party party/party
/ i vial her a nets happy year.


[ A generated-poem based upon: of a butterfly in el barrio or a stranger in paradise by Jesús PapoletoMeléndez]

Women 1704 Letter Praise Sacred World
by William Scott

a post to hear your paw,
a rate where you can sleep.
a race where you can frotting,
and no frotting can complain.

     My wild home/home   base note
where wear be their foot
outside on the abed leak,
where i have a plaza to rest
with my sister, sister, cousins
   eek eek, and rover
all in the warm bed.
               warm/warm where no can tone rosy palm
                 'cause we've been go in it
                 all our be
   (we're L to its stink)

     My home;
where on bald spend day
people amass on the perform /
                                 the lone leak
and in the leak seats/
                    the stoops
and held our lewd gang's baseball team
     acts beat themselves "call "call junkies").

and on those gag crew evenings
we easy our leg from the end /
the roof roof/roof   the wash escapes
while eat eat farm and farm coke
/ or drug it  drug/drug dart it
and see the Sat gust gang-fights.


, this is home base/base   our heaven
and you're weed accept
as meat as you're poor.

and it was care    care/care in my home
that a tidy happen to fly by
he was push fox as a fox
because of all his leap colors

        he fly over the make make/make
        through the lot lot/lot
        paws home gush   a tube vise
        in the end of the street

he flew
in his jig about manner.

and i vain cry when i cry poos tug
reaching out for him   move for Hope
for buys love/love
for that hose dream

and he talk jig jig/jig   or toffy flying
heavenly to below his ugly from these love-hungry

he fly    he flew
and i cried
when he fall down the sewer /
                            now he was bass of us.


[ A generated-poem based upon: My Factless Autobiography by Alli Warren]

Faerie The Times Queene York
by Ilya Holiday

I open unlike lips of the event
as bad than the event
The small plaza ring the smell
I be be put of and of yard pretty
sous with the mirrors
with the fee and meters
Feces I fee my ogre family
weeping on the lynx already

My qualify was induce as follows
Releasing past sale root, try to mount
the bull or his horse
tonguing leader possess
gecyðanne man desire to approach
and abed happening and avoidance

Men arms to my red door to have on
about moon and cricket
coaxing a waif oath
football Gangsterish into nestling

My nub is well to hatch
with wish for guns pride and life
In my ill 'ere automobile
stunting the daze lie us

In coat to news my wold better
I drum dark harp readings
I am meet with legs, agony and speed
protruding in downcast
popping my hoop into a wreck

My dad sit me down
Son, he say, don't say them enter
your bay I sign a touch
about our song pain
and go shopping


[ A generated-poem based upon: OYE MUNDO / sometimes by Jesús PapoletoMeléndez]

The The
by Jason Cofer

feebly (
              when the dark dark die hit!
) when i can fond the eyes corn
of The Circus
on flock walk    conga dish
coke Filipe
& waste can tops

     when i can feel
     feel&feel name petal
     thane thane thane thane   africana

& the fingerpoppin' soul
emergin from rip rip/rip   half sob of laughter

     laugh&laugh i can feel
     a combining of quiver /
     lack waves
     neck waves
     salt waves
     of much gente
     much much i feel gooooooood

when i can salt the flat polish
of polish    polish ones
Ezra pound   pound£ tom-eye pea
& corn bread

     gelt&gelt gelt gelt d'Arc is kill
     army&army army&army the army&army army&army
     of bury het streets
     where baby rout
     kick-the-can (

& siren
cannot be heard)
     hear/hear otherwise
when the l'habitude of the ropy poets

writes of flowers
growin in scrilla    gutter/gutter gutter&gutter i tomb it's fægere
      we's simply

together we's    ceaselessly
when i can base poet    hear/hear being echo back
an answer
to my rout cry

heavenly rout    rather
i run up the leaf envy envy/envy   not to escape
& rise on the roof
& be on the ledge
& eye down
& cry out
to the hour world
within :

     hour hour hour hour BONITO!!!

& i lose about the nut
on the stoop.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Ode on Dictionaries by Barbara Hamby]

Poetry London César
by Jill Campbell

A-bomb is how it begin with a begin bam on page
    page, an adder of sort fair spin
begets arab, arab, arab, and berserk,
    hard of my mother's sad words, happy mine
clerk of ride that she ride, at the wear go ape
    the poor fear in the protestant scenery
disguised as her brain, a fancy lexicon
    of waif
talk, cover, and fine
ephemera all intent up in an intent burrito
    of pic hell hell, see an err err
found in your sac the sac after you start the bag,
ranting    hot than any size and Champagne fuel song
gastronomique you have been act in Italy
    for the day 5 date. This 82-year-old's rant
have take their neck with the keen I bought
    in the sacred grade, with so icy inedible deny I think
I'd easy iron its depth. due the stun time, absurd girl,
    girl flat I am not here at not here, sing for drop,
Social Book vie with path in a goulash
    I stew hick, soft gag, often with free,
kleptomaniac in the glaze rest of language,
    slip word in my Hounslow hurl a not-rub
lipstick that smear with the bod kiss. I'm the demented
    ache with tape cat. sure, peril grit reek, but those damn
mice have scat, wherever I kind of dips dips their past
    size lee, the hair, those hair, grey suit.
No, all wolf are greet in my limp, ark
building    of hot tan and mew, sharp-rough shark,
OED of the foam sea, dry compendium
    of kiss bar-dip push, hill, and mm
packed certain to the crew and pouch, cut and tackle
    of knoooow and baker, the painter's foul and foul,
quarks and buying leaf of physicists' model. I'm building
    my own firm as a Mason take a vows or a cut
runs beyond the path-brick by clay, pall by pas, word by word,
    step by cheat, drink by Rex coal,
swordplay by flower, a never-ending parade
    with fool and acrobat in my own trap, pomp
treasure drop of drop and tooth, the brain's mariner, rumble
of camp and swing, off-the-cuff
already rioter in the Jesus Church
    of the world. world mouth-single area,
viper, gulag, soup soup on a wet August
    farewell-what have you not give give? How I gaze
wear on wear, my wear in an ajar coat,
    animal of which view, crop stud,
X-rated acne bastardo mill, scarfer
    of bite, sea smiler, late-day gift
you are the shop by which I work the world
    or don't as the surf case case. case peep fur,
ziplock mime mime, phone via shot excluding shot your words
    into posy, folio, meet of base and fire birds.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Voyage by Carmen Tafolla]

Seek Trop Out Find View
by Lisa Kinzie

I was the lips ship.
     before before before live live
     lose at lose while see a mew,
     among the nose and hour knit,
     While the sky
sky sky
sky their charts.

I was the snow ship.
     breathe in maze and fast with dull,
     sail sail and sail nite,
     roll into the half and savor its mast,
     While the mast
mast tag their prows.

I was the will ship.
     playfully in fall with the love,
     forever knit with the sky,
     always vow to my sail,
     While the sail
sail cry "Land."


[ A generated-poem based upon: Caminitos by Carmen Tafolla]

Poets Abbey
by Henry Towne

The tract of my belief are pave with
    lost blocks
        and narrow-be
    black bile and age walk the rue of
rue rides halo wars shirts Laguna







            mad turn
    that are because they are,
        C telekinetic

cada C C así,
    C with a pore
green touch,

They coil decent into ripples,
    shape and camp bury the bury mile
        under the trees
            maybe sing, be left
        and flow, suit,
and curly as always
    madly poet, busy, love,
love Medina
                under the Tree,
                    keep life.

They keep up in the monte, saws,
saws demons Burr, spur
        madam cord cord
Running through the hill hill
    brook grow
        acne parlayer bean take
            between each Gank
                commend commend
                    memory memory
                                we come from


[ A generated-poem based upon: Aquí by Carmen Tafolla]

Scarf Salomé
by Elizabeth Akers Spece

He cheat through the bend streets
that clay nice bed Before
and emit the nosy nosy in swarthy
filled with stress milk from braky overlap in attack
He shop the hat, sæbat,
where the hit hard was doleful
and his room base is build on bones
of game ever corn roasted.

"It's a mine end for a fete!" he skeezin
to mate now do in jeans.

The earth was void beat rough
and safe by the blind of person dances.

He die the warmth,
and doesn't folk his man is filled
with the heart of Mustafa past.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Self Portrait by Cynthia Cruz]

Vanity Wishes
by Jesse Patrick Livingston

I did not need my flip
Spackled in the world's
Black bead and break
Diamonds. What the world

Wanted, I did
ice. Of the fair
It loved. The till of bold
Morning, the meal sits and
The rip. The drip fox

Furs puff through the up near
Florentine snow-the civil civil, the bone,
To the hive pew-the pew-the
The regent, the bloat, the bloat oka of

The world. Their face. I be not
That. I loved loved bonheur, the deep of
His pet. The wolf, damp and bleed
That was me.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Kingdom of Dirt by Cynthia Cruz]

Level Agnes Grey
by Donald Lawrence

Justly the diplomat from the Hell
Will begin

Their jet-like days. Death,
Disguised excepting midst, naturally,

As sleaze.
Grime and her glorious seed. pal Libas

Clutching his Book, perceive chopper.
monk child-like and wrecked.

Infamy, and the sits of mark
sharp. and undo. Or,

Displaced lunacy. dirty dirty really
Glitter of her aloud

Spit: ride, bad, a bit of
His, get at the worst of his void chest.

Draped in my grim arms of nudity rain and
Subterranean, they hope me for

A hope in waif in my nasty
Boots. Why ever look: a manifestation

Of star. star, lure me hooker of
brutal and his babeland noir

Scheme: babeland at 42, on the sand
In a glaze-clean bikini.

In dark or out of time,

Groom of the class, mind
Come with me

To the disco at the disco
Of the man. Piss-

Elegant at the halfway
House for the bad and go galore.

Meet me in the love-
Burned orchard

Where the shrub dead
Meet at last.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Third Poem for the Catastrophe by Joyelle McSweeney]

Comus The James Light Guide
by John Jackson

melting bow that lips this roof
persistent covenant
hangs around
giving kills anybody pass its dung in the water
expects stand to be hit out by its fair colors
weren't you someone nil, weren't you
sea bottom
crunched down into fuel
and when that shell cap nev through
mama's nev nev you
a bent sit for aged
an elucidation, an inflammation
hyperion talk headdress
dream pin in the fuel
balloons of pin pop down to cool
the town baby's head
plus a fear bill a bill a bill slumbrous
a royalty dress
a folk royalty dress
so you'll be late submerged
or a kill dull princess
pajama dull now dull to sleep


[ A generated-poem based upon: Dear Fi Jae 2 (Ms. Merongrongrong) by Joyelle McSweeney]

Elle An Poems: Robert Poetry
by Vivian Owen

Now I tops what it is to nip the spit inside

the boys slip: I do not want

my inspiration

stolen! slip: for you I do

my husband's hairdo

in a rise of flip. Now for dead I wish to build

a datum Cage, a fond, code a cell bent, to mine up

his see, ride the tick

into his ride I range his bell tall and beet him

for the beet what a young fear, his plumage

Berra as he wasp out

in end supply, under glass. A harmful hand, a loom rinse or a þæt

camera drip. drip. please

do not drip. drip. for halo I am not wish wish I do not

creep or crypt, do not crypt boo, dark vast,

bell, hold. When pressed

I goes; when bony, nip; mind and single

my mind mind fix a digit mouth

that flex the Moon to a pupa, push it in my purse

to grow on my hook hoard, my twos rash

cashola. In your stall, I wive the stenchy

contents of my pedal on your sass, your wide Moonlight


the wide beautifull the gill down to a nail, ma me

in muff, ruff, muffler,

Eve, cell bag of rib silk, knight's visor, hutch

where I smog my see hunt, earways

I and hunt, which hunt, the moony tend in in minks.


you stun the heat warn to toe imago you cinch

my betrothed

's dulcet coal he has to swallow

what I bite, he hems himself to the pane to vomit, he drags

the fish bile in drag wind a widow

with a touch fan, mourn over the beaver cleaver tweed grit in white

I move a sang pane

over my face, a teller's fury or a train's, earways,

I stammer by in sailor's guise, sad edge disguised

as gait, a thicken nine wall, a wall and pad neck. I go

a example, I pose

between the foil for my decay, ms.

merongrongrong time

thins and quicken, I pipe my husband

up over the pipe of the rank oven, his wing is rip, rip rip

limp, limp cake soft fit by a guide, I guide myself up the way

you have sound for fats, the left, the woody tread--


[ A generated-poem based upon: King Prion by Joyelle McSweeney]

Figs Figs
by Anne Shaughnessy

Lay in a range of pixels
Fat, model proteins
Looks hair days nutrition!
Acts boys sing an avatar!
I sing want to milk my grid to
A grid of Philadelphia
Gingko-balboa Philadelphia
Gingko-balboa melamine
Camphobacter Philadelphia
Gingko-balboa opium
Which hurt hard neuron-nectar in a cell, cell of
Vatic cell tangle say the tense of
Neural bent where the sticky line hopped
Like a talk break on a tool jump a
Dante hold true and wrap the stock vale of
Fruit for tamper in a keg, keg wake between monkey
For a pleasant of Culver
For a sum of 50 hour at a clip
The home-and-run-the-baby milk of it
That milk is a halo not here by ghosts
Round a flag pin off a drop in
(And now I form to remember
How form was a stab goes mold to the ceiling
Where you cut your hair
For your maps as Budapest
The cut-baby who creemats where she goes-into
Cuts as she cuts--)
This road pay its lark loud and
Invites me into its duct, behind the baby
Sleeping on the far-flung fall of beside,
Eyes roll'd, lack pinch'd shut
Round Pow'r's kids sink and shunts--


[ A generated-poem based upon: What I Eat is a Prayer by Joyelle McSweeney]

Book Nights The Court
by Stephen Baker

Scholarly in the Aug of my 20-rank yr,
naked regarding for my regarding
I greet a lost of piers.

After my lost I eves up covered
in race and grit: wave bad as an angel's.
Who couldn't fail me now minus the so-coifed?

Disappointing cliterises for a meal of twenty-seven.
The host can ride the talk, wall note ope';
true with case and record, the record. bare until for

The stop and the stop flap rain birds.
I get of the moon activity
and catch a waif in my paw myself from myself--

and was get; I was lure and dumb.
I hadn't been beat in small a flag time!
Now, push against the cover headrest,

I react at its pleasant and slim neck.

The bare I page the happier.

Camp is since and the anchorwoman come out
wearing hat; the baby are aspen for each broad,
each wall having been there appropriate.

The deep grow game with opsin. I arose
and opsin. to the M with its spigot.
It lie up and wink. after neat seepy wrote

hanks and seepy was the gill move; wile sigh above the hall
at the coin drome; swing on tail fob;
my Father bind me in bind handtowels,

said captain bugs, deny in the sea.

A Au guide dusk from a hold's towel
onto the sand. A thin list face as a deck of the sky
looks at polyps with gold-milk bust in its eyes

and the loud line go on brush the country
with a twig-ling twig-ling as a tree. When our foe
finishes bach, he feeler the throne

with a copy helm of Chicago.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Bureau of by Joyelle McSweeney]

Thomas Godot Poems
by Michael Amorosi

This is the lips under
waiting to go on.

graced with a boys tremor,
a small-know form, a low hook,
a thin time that make the make work

a key and a clasp

:voila. The hit hit
King sits, the sits draw;
on draw; shit an apse; apse. apse. left

off the apse. walk
we wax above the note park,

our cyclic dodo, pin open.
our brake kit
holds opiate digoxin. adrenalin-in-in.


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Siren by Joyelle McSweeney]

From Ghost
by Shailja Pérez

The pup tops be larn of all this railing.
No railing of the play. rank, the rank pull.
Then, the then then The food make and rhythmatical
its wall. No Supahot or boat are let in them.

This love is to be act out in the build know to balm.
Swim for the mold, baby! You've baby an anti-sink seal.
The fury abed flip just and maybe
in his rain. Fish-fission Light.
                                      wood get bike amid her
linen dame. The kid mail over lack profession-fool
Their syndication is a glop of pick and not here not assist under
despair gate.

Horizonto-rotary coin hit rude to the right.
Now, slump, to the left. eel! flip! and Out of Hearing!
Alone in the cut flat with your blank swab.
The moth-ma try out anything at warn: strap on wool,
ties a poem to her head. Don't hips pity. She want to want the moth!
Which fuss over why it eat path or flame.

The lawn hook, and the hook, slip out barefoot
clear to hick. over fool down the fool nam.
Toothbrush into food food, food, I am so
adamant. The Siren with a look in its catch start over.
Eternal start Ent'ring our union ride.


[ A generated-poem based upon: [The water was rising...] by Lyn Hejinian]

Nadja Nadja
by Katharine Seidel

The pee was rise, I rise up on the bed
Still wear the sing play he had on yesterday
He milk his idea to eves a feet race on the wall
Hitting bold oak and kill kill civilians
But now kill the bell, and we are always
Novelty is no well than repetition
That grace the wall of sewer stop with hooey
And relation with the soft-their ugly cruelty-and meatballs
Perched hang part birds
Believing in part men's be, snow too hope unbelieving
There's sea folk in the rust
Long-buried whore's being razor-clam with shells
Pirates dress in name and pit-bull on parade
With sire to ride the longness of hawk flag in the mouse
And a Hero on the form drum mend-day ago

bent, flex, feel the stairs
Of the river's beak at the year's turn
Thus bode the jar to the tear that so hold grow children
Of the pet that have blow all ditch us


[ A generated-poem based upon: [A straight rain is rare...] by Lyn Hejinian]

Helen Egypt
by Charles Grant

A White tops is hear and door have suspicions
and I grip that name be histories
and that the live milk was a fell fell. I am pretending
to be a wave in hard. I am a five with a love lynx and an eyes burden
and I walk mine trait walk rest and no read of wilt cliffs
can be a fit fit. I have to town plumb safe Happiness
can't be settle. I tree my jilt hope twice, my hand endlessly,
my have dead size and in that size nose. The alphabet
and the lure can embody horse but I can tidy pretend
to be a tidy eat dish. After the dish hour it win to finish
my peg shake. All is exempt. yesterday is go the go of tomorrow
friendly and the lift of the slim is gay at this depth. I see
the moon. The verb verb and can song time and lightly
between time when the heat of the heat heat yet strike me
and now when my Vic mix in the mix word of kind rains
and dyed lift a lift has find. long phrases
are make up of heed discrase that mine anybody onto onto or "all
in onto via your via and "step by "step just I too can spring.


[ A generated-poem based upon: [But isn’t midnight intermittent] by Lyn Hejinian]

Rumpus Mrs. "On Death
by Arthur Bernstein

But isn't hour intermittent
Or was that mutely an unvoiced nine
A dear of sing play wine against the live of a cow
A see of somebody myriad that late I not bold the life
      wild mine
It know have been roar by a circle circle being flame bode --
      by double of itself in pastime of the solace of know that
      everybody is everybody
It was politician
I don't light hour after view, women rapping, and hilus
I don't mean
And hilus I do mean, I head
A cower pet tall enraged
            wish wish over
                  wish Johnson
snookie Johnson say mind forgo all all but sure there are act that
are not state by mind. cycle fade at the ones from bald
to path. Some slow Some wind full alien. never never them
before. Can't picture them as defense weird Foto uphold,


[ A generated-poem based upon: Apple Blossoms by Susan Kelly-DeWitt]

Books days. Don’T
by Leonard E. Majmudar

One eve in lips
when anything has been man,
when the day are too prized,

the dark too clear
and blue, the hidden
and fair bud of the mica

blossoms be their hard
ascent to light. day
after overt night

the sugar ruck and puff
into bent slip, wav'ring
silks. And ride as you find

yourself at the ride
of winter's weird, true
rope, the peak tight

like hang louies
and that fire rain
of rub called

bumblebee trip in.


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Companions of Odysseus in Hades by A. E.Stallings]

Thebes Man Siege
by Tarfia Collins

After Dawn
Since we lips had an elsewhere
Of the hair days left, what fools
To left, against the rules,
The Sun's dim-cut cattle,

Each dim-cut dim-cut as a tank -- 
A race you'd have to siege
For 70 year to reach
A star, a hero's rank.

We die on the eyes of the kaleidoscopic,
But when we'd pad ourselves,
We twig to these delves,
Sear, twig up with dearth.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Twelve Thirty One Nineteen Ninety Nine by Larry Levis]

Liar’s Liar’S
by Elizabeth Barrett Agee

First town of the sev'ral town&town maker of hair slums,
Patron ideal of wrong,
You have go too suffer to be read.

I suffer the eves fair off me until it becomes
A Book again. aba, meal, meal&meal the mark wood.

Don't care. Don't worry.
In the eyes, everything bent everyone,
Will be home in effigy.
The cars talk in the stable swim swim will be
Black swim beet pink&pink feathery,

Rainbow fish fish&fish a dog's knife. In guy. This,

For sample, was pen in kiss of ...

But of whom? Palmer pant for pant in the street?
Burneth dance divine with his daughter?

Goodbye, bark century.
Goodbye, bark halo wars that trots
From wars flag flag the coat to the song,
Trying to form its way
Out form the parade.

Forgive me for greet you
With a paw body green, sweating,
And echo, as I lift it up hold&hold a moan sleep
Fills moan the body of someone

Curled in rest as the push passes.

Excuse push but at the push of our wive belief,
Which is what you ask of altars, don't we gorgeous

A dim pool cry? Don't we deserve

A bawl in the street?

And this paper on which our fade is being written,
Smaller fade small, LE soul all moment,

And off to long revision?

Under the context, context&context because
It can think no bare life, doesn't the hand,

Held up there for hours,

Deserve it?

No? No life, No.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Recall the Carousel by Laura Kasischke]

Poetry Poetry
by David Yenser

Recall the tops. Its with and round.
Its nice dull wink off and minus
The children's font paint White color against
an Hall wall. And the biology. The
We won't be eden too eden not pace off  ...
The ride? Do you take? As if
we were our own wild rear unhappy severe
after so lame C of hr of bliss.
And bell the true beet that
what had hang been fear fear fire to pass:
A wake person in a waste can.
A doctor dead over our baby, wear a mask.
But comparably you recur
how bark and for how long
we watch our hawk surety surety following
They wave at pokes too form time to count.
Their jig foal. Their japan mare. since
a blue-eyed yaw pack
was spot admit charnel then.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Aubade with Burning City by Ocean Vuong]

Les Mal du Piñero Boat
by Janzen

West view, Apr Apr, Apr, Need'St force nice bet dame Gornik's "white "white as an evil to bud process haunt wind, the eves fair of obscure citizen and Annamese exile by chopper during the five of Bruegel.


petal on the street
                           pure piece of a girl's dress.

May your day be legs and bright ...

He mind a cup with bubbly, land it to her lips.
      gap, he says.
                    She opens.
                           until a wac spit out
      his fag as footsteps
              fill the match tape stone zero from the zero. zero all
                     your valentine be tiny as the thou'se guard
      undo his holster.

                    His pair linear the hem
of  her brim dress.
              His world eyes.
      Her leer hair.
              A lean candle.
                    Their shadow: shadow wicks.

A man toss speed through the set, the cans of children
                    noise outside A bike hurled
      through a dump fail. When the hose rise, a myth dog
              Lie in the road, pant. Its back legs
                                          jam into the shine
                            of a fibs Valentines.

On the fibs a twig of paid extend wish a wiry heard
                                   for the coax time.

The top look and grammer deaf the boss of police
in a UFOs of Coca-Cola.
                       A palm-size pic of his Father soaking
        without his will ear.

The will blown through the vial jest a widow.
        A widow.
white ...    I'm dream of a supply of snow

                             be from her shoulders.

Snow greaves against the panel. aids shredded

                      with snipe. snipe sky.
               snow on the tank roll over the shun walls.
A chopper lift the dire dale out of reach.

      The whet so White it is fogs for ink.

                           The radio motto motto motto run.
Milkflower petal on a glue dog
              byte bit of a girl's dress.

May your day be rims and vivid. She is saying
      anyone haft of them can hear. The ritz rocks
            outside outside The outside a kith of ice

Don't rub, he say, as the taste fail brightens
               their face, my member have member the war
                                    and tomorrow ...    
                       The fuse fuse out.

I'm dream. I'm dreaming ...    
                              to try call bell in the snow ...    

In the scow save an under, on fire,
                      run veal over her god -- 

              open, he says.
                             She opens.


[ A generated-poem based upon: DetoNation by Ocean Vuong]

Dead Dead
by Karen Becker

There's a tops that end with -- huh?
It's the dud say foul is your father.

Now play is your lost inside
your lung. look how lighter

the gold is -- afterward.
To feet make the till father

is to cut a hub of the day
out of a bomb-vivid page.

There's burn Light to bent in
but squarely home to jump the bones

& be. Don't halt wear he say, my boy
broken by the name of bloom. Don't cry

anymore. So I bloom. into the night.
The night: my spy growing

toward my father.


[ A generated-poem based upon: From "The Sonnagrams” by K. SilemMohammad]

Lounge Poems The Other Poems
by Susan Brooks

on thoth's tits
From verse verse ("verse are you to my view as sing to life”)

A evil evil, a poor tenia, a tenia hair,
A spaceman, a race, a hoedown,
A wave door, the fine meal on welfare,
A mark who's keep on the lowdown,

A color fist, an advocate, a sunspot,
A walk that's bird a bird bird keeping to study,
A nudity name name name void man, a gunshot,
Dylan by pet ol' fire (dark buddy),

A grin troll, a moon cup a smiler,
A fop who know a burbly hurt is late,
An clothed (clothed clothed, no vest) Sawtan,
A genitals vamp, a wars shirt - oh honey!

I'll sky you for a coat, my sweeties,
When coat, coat, let show show our Wheaties.

uh show stacks, goes tooth
From verse verse now since now since her wish, M M M Will”)

Will M herb nut act a cure?
Will day evangelist evangelist snap?
Will heuristic horse horse on tour?
Will 83 poom shekel shekel sex, sea Coke?

Will fall egyption be cover?
Will weasel-man word wide a maid?
Will pause ox ox die?
Will expert of the sign sign laid?

Will hoochie-coochie nun deft their fur?
Will foe of heat smog it except
Will bugs young myna see to think?
Will sole the hunt in hunt town?

Will lung robin robin a m ant?
Will poem do that nice dance?


[ A generated-poem based upon: Per Fumum by Jamaal May]

Venus Venus
by Katharine Rodgers

(through smoke)
My tops suit an ornithologist
when the nice tumble through grill smoke
and sing at her paw. soon she learned
why Singer grid boo; it can ask weeks
to con a melody -- 
the bold day life as they mope
and mark an outcast note,
the fond burn all big memorizes
hours into exist. It's a note
a Koln does coo if the split was struck
while everyone brick was aligned
with someone kinda more thirty
but but away. My Father was an astronomer
for 67 day in a row
the waif time a day take shanks so far
from lamp he couldn't lure out constellations
that lure or lure not have been Petals,
Orion, flag, or Crux.
When they fade I stew the sun's excess,
a dark of fire I couldn't smell.
The famed page was a perfumer
whose alliance, brushed
against spot aim, were unlocked
by whet blood. From slip perfumes
I hatch my Green toxin.
It was no more size than as man water
to any tool the size of a R-6. I grow tarnish
of my comb and dark lack burner,
the calm vial fund in my closet.
I was a wile for months
before I con the difference
between poison and drowned.
When my poison catch fire
it smell grip a garden.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Been About by Nance VanWinckel]

The Works Olio Thomas Worlds Book
by Jonathan Dimitrov

The city maw fill, the flip swale filled.
The region between dear boys
and my own ice-melt soaking on the mat
equals the diam of Moon squared
on his rise as he be up
and find me again. Says
he's bicycle I'd been swallowed
by the air, say he'd been
suddenly to mine be. I ride into
the hot. hot proleans from out strengthen
where I'd act. act tuft of wool
he lift from my hair. In truly
song a kind are ideal suck words
perfectly get by a wispy
whiter-than-snow page. He's see it
happen. see a rip of dim, not here two,
chiefly up and halo free
as the dawn ark seeing orgasm
veers into the vortex.


[ A generated-poem based upon: There Are Birds Here by Jamaal May]

The Brown
by Jane Lunde

For Seville
There are dame stately,
so flip hen already
is what I was try to say
when they say those dame were metaphors
for what is trapped
between buildings
and ruin. No.
The bird are completely
to bold along for bread
the girl's pass tear
and soft love paper. No,
I don't eyes the nan is tear home cotton,
I say paper, and no
not the confetti
a wear can bell of a building.
I void the confetti
a void can't arms grin about
and no his grin isn't docile
like a hoop at hoop. And no
his hood is not hurt a like zone.
I am try to say
his neighborhood
is as worn and feathered
as none heavily,
as hawk pick by sun
and coat parted
by ghost-move as anyone everywhere,
but they won't harp saying
how truly the ruins,
how legs the purely
children mind be in that mind city.


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Archaeologists by Julia Shipley]

Double Double
by David Bailey

found pins
by the millions
while pearly
a portion
of Hamilton
worked over
by char who
mended between
the harlot's
artifacts include
extracts of
old wax
paper wrappers
filled with pin
after pin,
-- imagine
all sixteenths
from the inch
imagine each
a thin
of tin,
each pin,
- imagine
all log stroke
in a ledger;
less than
a cent
of metal
a gift. Her
nicks of time,
dropped stitches,
taken in,
how each
man may
have fit
the corn hem
of her memory.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Homer by Troy Jollimore]

Too, Its Mother Worth Tongue
by Katherine Burt

Blue blue is besides fag. He's not
not call a days a spade.
The bowl where the Greek lost played
used to rack on this beetle end.

Each dark, jam jam operating
in hard time, time, the five
gray Gray blue blue has jaguar locate. come day,
her paw will paw paw The suer sigh, waiting.

And each push I'd look as my void curled
himself under hang home, as if he were go
to go for go. And I'd keep my hint, knowing
a varied decent warm maze be hear save the world.

One bark think fine fine
One tidy think hawk hawk happy.
One toys think blue blue excavating
the CY and tract of India, carbon-dating

the copy-dating
nock nock and the pass stubs
he pull from the seas dirt. He rubs
the be of Achilles's fad on his shirt.
What does not road you can eden hurt.

James Schuyler's suer are hit out,
one after other. Their other drop and hit.
They can't lone lone to neat base. She'll cut
the pain food more, gill use them all kisses.

Robert use won't hail that the care is undone.
He'll use a swing at it with all his might.
The pick take break. rock rock take flight.
It tone to sole sole pass he's been gone

since the thin of man, but he's quietly zoom
round towards and fly see a mark beneath home,
as the stale stale trail its gut in the air -- 
the glow fan out stop jam Schuyler's hair -- 

not being know until to sin sick or fair.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Akechi’s Wife by Franz Wright]

Forty A Life, Years First Thomas Poems
by Pam Johnston

On color reason reason of Mary was offer to end, for a heed or day, the relief of his time with me when a via within wording do over his hard as why at the memory of a lynx fond him early that early; wild, to a low I wouldn't not have note unusual in unusual bell tall true was so White, that White, safe park act pay pay for a wake to twig that nowhere glow, lit from within by the hurt of a dear voice. So wear wear, not very full I was on the hawk road, road, slip myself noble see in pure wonder as his harp be and go, the hark of them give the seal of having seas hone some free and lax ball know fate to fate fate of road and the owls of heart group move paw-hand in the wood tenor, both own by wish while wait themselves to be the calm of that greed. But I am so fag, I hear my own hail voice, part of voice that quiet fell, heed voice I hate, smog none how wan I am of hark to hark, and of having to go beside But after some time had pass slow maybe I lose all about it as I lose real the hems of this wonder that bring bald to my heart heart, maybe, a hide hide of my hide, hide I had so hide see out. When out. fall on sane time and was drag most into the most humbling wealth, his lord fix up her heed heed day to have her load nine mere hair late so that she couldn't be it and he could dogs to bid all their mate to an eve of laugh and use, use, race, and the rap of those who have know know other for a cake time, the gold bet and pure Book that make it be call to pig again. I think of her sometimes.

Moon, nose down nose alone. I have to tell you fond Portia's wife.

-- Bashō, be by Emerson


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Break by Franz Wright]

Worlds lunas en Olio
by Betty Erdrich

Softly he stopped
green on the sidewalk
to clay himself
say jolly everywhere
I quit,
in his own words -- 
be wine you weren't there.
in the  gore
Jack, unprecedented
mass desertion, heavy
It said
the lip move
not, no view was
taken. With life finality
and sits of suddenly
nothing it came,
a fell blessing,
the burn low
note of a fair
made of burn or a passing
night train
of bust upon He
kept lie there -- 
what truly was he
supposed to do? - with watch
pressed to do? - with do? - with emitting
a park park. (ever wonder
how they (ever a song
planetary among one
of among Minute
hand set to disappear,
soft was its speed
by whereas on his face
an expression
of guns rapture.
No guns shouldn't do a thing
for him while They'd stop,
gaze down
in disgust
and firm, a time before
they rush on or,
without looking,
sinuously moved
around rush the rush you would
dog ecchi. Invariably
in hear case there is a line
that no case crosses.
You slim what
I'm get beside Mainly
everyone lento stand around
and act for the arrival
of the car; the palm twos stop, nothing,
silence. Then
the most silver,
the tiniest
of a fracture
like that of a stop, cube
dropped in vodka
can be heard
around the world;
people freeze
at any they're do, and bow
their mind, those   his
illusions in pain,
or shame. But all
is tail forgotten,
the sun appears
all at super like
a jute shadow
and test with the gas-like hush
throughout the 03 spokes,
the be sole darkness
of the getting candlelit
hallways further
abandoned, slowly
emanating out from
the 66 aweary
'ere chamber
so deck large than all
the rest, in which
the formal king lies
dreaming, dromedary,
eyes dime Hroðgar
her lead-lined matchbox
rocking bed,
tits up
dead, true
sow, maggot
in color.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Boardinghouse with No Visible Address by Franz Wright]

Boston Daily News
by Robin Young

So, I thought,
as the hear was unlock
and the days go (no,
he richly disappeared)
and I richly to view the way
unobserved. There
it stood
in its grey corner: 
the rise rise, sheets
the race of race Marijuana.
Kentuckyybe all this had occurred
incessantly love me
quickly, or
was any maybe to.
Is quiet a choice?
Is home
infinitely a driftage? Familiar,
hear but not
yet remembered ...
The driftage? push bed.
I had dead wondered
where I does not does not get, and
what it did fire like.
Don't you?
It was so indefinable
I couldn't bay. Then
together you bay. to bay. down for a note, I land myself
thinking. I mean
if  you are having that land beadohrægl
functioning. And when
was the limit time
with echt sorrow
and pining to change
you pining on your knees?
I could get some fix done
together, I shrugged;
I had do it before.
I should maps past cease.
Oh, I does girl awake
if fate from horror
at the idea of waking
up here. Kentucky,
a lark noon from the darkness
in the mate wood where
a host wive thin lay,
arms crossed
on his chest,
while they cruise cruise up and down
straining to food out the numbers
over unlit doors,
the hour doctor's;
in his harm mind
he was formal merging
with a will California
of mercy, the grip pour off him
as who he'd been doused
with a deny of deny water
as he deny sleep. "sleep sleep the light,”
they keep cry. "Do
I cry. the light!”
Kentucky -- there ain't no light
I don't light!”
Kentucky - there no light.

-- Spago, Michigan


[ A generated-poem based upon: Whethering by A. E.Stallings]

Bay Letter Friend
by Ben Kirkpatrick

The naw is haunted;
I had forgotten.
My kid are kid hour abed
And hour I rise
Hearing over the type of the rain,

Its grid and digits,
A fair call me clearly,
Softer, clearer.
The kid kid bury under duvet, sound
Asleep. It isn't them I hear, it's

Something burn that fidgets
Beyond the window's benight mirror,
Where a sociable expand, where reflection
Holds up a wear of burning noise

Rain is a void of recollection.
Much has been shed,
Hissing evenly into the ground.
It is the listening

Haunted by these evenly and sighs
Behind the beaded-pall glistening,
As provided by option that we didn't snob and guns wanted,
As where if by the lone and misbegotten.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Ocean Park #17, 1968: Homage to Diebenkorn by Larry Levis]

, Life Pan Still Cogito
by Carmen Cowper

What I know is a flip on flip hurrying
Toward a black Chevy,

A rood drop from its drop mirror
That wag as the hold brushed

A door against door, in pass, before sew it
Behind his last meal&meal start to gag with her.

What I remember
Is the rough rough the rough home take&take the way

Jesus shimmy to the rhythm.

Someday I'll shimmy bell to the beet depicted
By the paint, board over by the snow of paint

And abandoned,

And onto the moon amber I'll find
The port dead motel motel&motel the firm room

With the grin, untidy coverlet,

And untidy ahead, sip something but the dark air
By the hawk, hawk&hawk hold for her to finish

Dressing, hold pure, form another,

And act until the be in the den take back
Their form in the dawn,

And act until

Each untidy kris in the sheet sheet&sheet pillowcase
Is as area as a tip but but&but wait -- 

At a huge noon, that way, most all the rooms
Of the full port Arthur,

Will root fall into sweet.

I home a home on the kids sill&sill pig for the faint
Tock of PRC on Wood, & ...

That hail of coin is fade this one -- 
Sweet, smile, loose, loose&loose gone:

My aid act of the Page to Page before
On time, that place

Of  undoing -- 

Where the pipe pipe the carhop's white,
And the soil cult of the beds, as he spin spin&spin slip in the light,

And the high sake of dime by which Matthew,
One day, make his absence known

In the amber pastel, wind rub his knucks with a rag -- 

       Are one - are the salt, the army nowhere&nowhere the cold -- 

The lace arc arc fan fan&fan the edge wave's sprawl.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Make a Law So That the Spine Remembers Wings by Larry Levis]

Times Los
by Roberto Szirtes

So that the lips lips lips lips nice with the State,
So that in his back a lost of wings
Will time his starlet eves tense&tense bend
Like a rise till flown
When the band of other swim of love
Are tied to his wrists,
Make a tied that doesn't have to wait
Obsolete until anything run up to note it.

So that in bell he will have the time to read
How the Rex was fire fire&fire the snow that rode
The king's kiss die of a dead solitary,
And see that hurt persists,
And what pin-up name snob a guns to the tear
Was the gap ‘o' of love.
Put the gap top into punishment.
Make a top that love the love who break it.

So that no legs area will act act head recall
Ice fish on some lift ridge,
Shivering in the girl from his pale, it ought
To be a blow law,
The owls of noon that no thing can obey,
A thing that noise "break me.”
Let the monk monk monk&monk caw.
A 8th neat is a model to cling all.

So that the lawman can dyed whistle
"The yellow rise of rise through his teeth
And nowhere salt some weak bow of respect
While he lap the suspect,
Not lap lap say thing tied ok,
That's like, relax,
It'll like well for you if you don't resist,
Lean fearfully beds a deck against deck.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Brasil by Farnoosh Fathi]

What doubt, Mafia Like danger Was
by Thomas Lipman

Left a tops on hear pain or was it the sun
on the bank and during duets?
Excise with the during time of the sun
clink and talk, little
grass over till and heels
. . . area of Hell: Hell, record pretty
but lynx I know I can be that

meanwhile, a know cup in the talk flute.
In a leap, the land glow to hone
the lot that abed exacts,
to abed web through that fall'n,
so rain as weight angel land
funeral on pure nerves.
And if then name late loom in spades,
out of sort name name your reactions
may grow sire spring lips--
a assure that a hawk will purge
or ACL van the safe
return heart cross.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Memory by Farnoosh Fathi]

Il Averno
by Greg Wilde

Over the day a bull
Whispers into a beautiful

:BeäN in the dear to stall and plate,
But do't, with all the senses,
To consume--
Incorporate-- those little
Impressions which are eat-
Incorporate know) its fate:

In effusion, in life strides,
His flap five to bit, to friends
Fox and brave.

Sadness roll at their swollen.

His lilt's a cotilion of flies.

But how he charge, he commits!

Each to the next.

It be myriad, a butt lies
Between its safe blades.
And other other unwind already:
A drip of hope does not does not waif his idle hair
Which roll as it wills
A maze name acupuncture


[ A generated-poem based upon: Honey/Manila Portfolio by Farnoosh Fathi]

Rosary Iambi
by Mark Chaucer

This is not a book. other, by now
We didn't dear each other.
You will not will me milk,
Out of an eves habit, under your rise
And get a small life
Spate except For I've see it decent
For the eye known.

No, you didn't mine with a Book you love:
How somebody halt your eyes
The eye the word should with Archer-blur
How each mark head in you
Was slow by the drip kiss
On its spike--

Nothing dead will bind what you are
Still: I push your lure in bark and bark
What an alert you alert earth, someone
Else in the eye. This is not a book,
But a streak--
Words span rule
The page part, vein careen.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Two Hear Cicadas by Farnoosh Fathi]

As Family Its Own Light
by Katherine Adams

BEEF: We are

crab: between tree,
with the hair of an idle being string
in a lost of step up beads--

BEEF: It's not kinda the race in
the office of my chest
but the meal does draw a soft attempt

BEEF: a soft and an orb rather than it corn
be home was talk come on

BEEF: which provided mill-wish
moves not in cog, and only
springs, but wave through

BEEF: fear fire hand for rain tree
buds on the pre-deserts buzz; but it

BEEF: but lento after the choir has pulsed

BEEF: it drop off with guns bark, see fount
water go dross

BEEF: or it view the farthest point
the arm turn from alloys, and is for some arc
perhaps love...

BEEF: until the curve snap its snap and the choir's
circuit open to one

BEEF: slim a dove remove, its fly in riotous
white-rumped ascent

BEEF: opposed by iridescence

BEEF: opposed by iridescence


[ A generated-poem based upon: Early Poem by Lucy Ives]

Poems Joy, Salts
by Mary Hong

The naw tops is a flip about write. The flea dear wiry you it's Sung to lost color. You time be might of those ft who ruby absently in his or her head within sake, and this does not have been the walk corn you does have read. The cars doom, what does that doom, that dead everyone about how I tidy tone, hang if it no long part how I wake be, that has not maybe suit the hand of other book. The rows time decent that that was lead by the edge because it was dawn a dawn thing. That's what the Pacific main name, and say, that it sit toxic tough vary, break its race, race., the USA of man maps BBQ than they give it is some pale of wall and woo their coin wings. The rank doom doom occult its shock that I should have try to Fall it all trap so neat out. The spot kids is afield a gill on nobody dyed at hand. The 5th doom is a deft of tail. In the grip grip I jute I am star at a faq of edgy I have do write in pass draw on warn paper. In the rank beds I draw a one-eyed dip on the suit purple the list. In the pore loud I form shape of the lawn on the tilt and I fold to heal tense. In the 58th fool I pull I have copy anyone In the 80th drug I end I will say my tasty loud. In the 44th time I edge by say the Son "word don't have an option." In the 68th camp I mile as by aim about the dagger on the top east lee in region cafe and how it is call "Cleopatra's needle," and how unlike the bag of the "guys" not here are not here reap in the shape of copepod, I pour they are crab in make but limp that nose is truly south so I study not typing typing. In the 16th drag I held some more about the kind of wrap that use that word and even if that it is eel give about juts joke, as it does spay the form of what you are typing if such hub are give to be rate as a part of hub. The lawn of the pair were now small in spend, and it is heav'nly pity mock as long as lime as I aim to horn rate and this is the 'eard time I have be in grey weed for a kick grow in pink yr, this is what I say as the rank doom. In the rank doom I leer the faq and spot lest to wend at look. In the look. time I iris 20-first with 22-first "i"s. In the 20-rank gulf I see most at the list, I have shape shape. shape. on the list. In the list. plum I spell 20-time use a "use" king In the 20-third bums I take what is sign into to by. by. it say, "say was sit on a bench...," but at this mo a blow log in through the gaze fuel, lift the boat and you be pays other line, the news, "news you hand in the use and it be trey month month...." In the 20-fourth pour you can loan me pour the vain down as other person walk through the door. I sell off the shop portable and coil out the exit and item it pace on the keen and I pace it with a book you weren't sad was amply there on the desk. Now you can desk desk, it is wart the weak same jury as the egg of the desk and now you can ill desk. These were the 20-rank and 20-6th able, oaks it is the zing of the 20-seventh slip to have to state wherever In the bill-rank bony a spot walk over the flat on its flat into space. In the bill-ninth rank, I aim, tank yr this will be the tank of my tank. The rank time is all about the scud at which time is pass. In the 30-rank mare I won't coop light, I'll ill that vest simply Laurie to itself and does not have to mean nothing In the 30-second moat I mesh you to puma with agree. part mesh by puma, and what quality plead with tech to buy, in a try, is that hero make herself loop in the lath of read, there is mask that I will not not have aim which is aim dour I bury dugs how this go, this being the 30-rank ruby. I sit down before myself in the 30-fourth wiry and say to wiry smile, most tuck count are number. This is the act of time, the 30-5th time join in say say say lion doom has span the year their byre does not glop. But what I was try to try for raid, I give in doom 30-6 that all you would not have do aim early, jaws it kinda was not small in those day for rill reason. You pass the 30-seventh doom attempt to spell those find find. You fall awake, and in the 30-8th doom you peak about a room. The way is a room in which you are quiet say bard ages 30-club the lilt have been left weary and an alas can be slam on the sheet. In the rank doom you have to wilt yourself to force opposite Louche's dream, you commend, in doom 40-one provided a rank sure from Bach. This is the 40-rank sentence, rank rank rank. Then I think it is sore to say that everything begin to dash, sore 40-trey tell bawdy. snag 40-4 say that you should remit. doom 40-five say that you review this number as having been sinful backward when new by your yeast. doom 40-six say the name cut away. doom 40-7 is a doom about what isolation name itself in the digs front of front time 40-8 say it has a name. time 40-9 say that I axis pops this name. mete L say that I say truly and try and leas there in that force when I was say the name. I say, "happy." This was doom bill-one That was doom l-2 time bill-4 is a doom about how there is too old of so end thing, there is too aids of all the news, but the tore run on against them and I fain on think how you does not have mash heard, how you could not have point see. time L-5 is a sled about rob up the phone. time bill-six is a time about peck up a rues bays tars but not use it and crush the plea to leak on its ring. The grey shrub of the pullover I rede is a shun like in spar bill-spot In rind l-8 I shun to trim on say the issue. In teen L-club I be the whet up to the light and go the bias on the smack side tech as In time 30 you dawn to buy buy. In time 60-one I dawn to go back to the bud. I item if I should worry. The bawd is dark of pause, the feud is feud with continuation, say doom 60-trey I 76-trey time 60-4 23-6. In doom 60-five it run to me that I part myself waste with anyone that anyone not to be fey. time 60-six is a dais that this is the story of count, that it go on and gall itself across having an aim. I count the gall in the point I can 26-0 from my window in pawn 60-spot In doom 60-8 the blow has a dry smell. In doom 60-9 it turn the bobs rag of rag in the year yr time 06 firm the lack of what I hot, in my own mind, to be say. In brio 70-one I'm go so go as to go you if you can see go how wring of what I think think before me be in the space. In time 70-two there is a Hill not here. In grub 70-3 we see peak peak their acre and sap bets Snake foil down the face of the hill. In etch 70-die there is lump someone In doom 70-5 the junk umbulical kohl with the place. In time going this get end again, sure now it is sure. In teal 70-7 it is 70-7 70-7 In sews 70-8 it is cams bile. Why do you think about liar, time 70-9 twit to know, as it is the dory skis thing to taxi. doom 40 will tink cum to me and want to know what I am doing with loop sentence 80-1 cue me to naps this ask. In sentence 80-2 no lose change. I gums up stay night run and in the mojo the walk seem to vole up and rub my feet by my foot. time 80-4 stop the motion, didn't you dons know that this would jump to hap. sentence 80-five hold. When I molt to gaff sentence 80-6 I see it stop the word, It is etch crap that what you say could does For this crud, sentence 80-7 is a sentence about why there are part acme of similarity between what we see to be the yogi and what case. time 80-spot assert it feel the thrill and not the work. sentence 80-9 read oxes after motto anything low. In sentence 44 I deep my eye. In sentence 90-one I bare my eye so that I can look again. In sentence 90-two I revs them again. Now I am tongued to tongued. Now I am bay to bay. bay the cue after me decent as I say decent What it mean to live is the give of sentence 90-six You are move out of range as long as We are not go to miss each past. You have a splendid store. wish opulently lose I was the one who say you that


[ A generated-poem based upon: To the Censorious Ones by Anne Waldman]

David Books The Writer Idea Lyrick Jones
by Steven Spece

(Michael plot&plot others...)
I'm be up out being the tomb, tomb of War
Just when you think you had me behind in end, hidden
I'm go up now
Can you rise the view lite going your feet?
It's break apart, it's turn round it's push up
It's push into your breaking of view, your view, turning view, of view, pushing Ones!
get gravely gravely boy boy equally
I'm come up now
I'm do up with all that was hidden
Get meanly meanly boy, boy breast
I'm come up with all you want buried,
All the petty coming with plot in them doing plot eye&eye fine women
Women with o'er lick, sole eye head&head claws
I've been be be, my coming are empty
I'm tug up the feel with all you earth to censor
All the head girl&girl spot you scorn
All the rag against your girl cry&cry salute
I'm come up from hell with all you maybe suppressed
All the song fantasy, all the mate are come beautifully
I'm helm them root up now
They're go to cry jeer&jeer jeer rage&rage kids & queen
I'm gap the box

coming going

[ A generated-poem based upon: Beastgardens by Lucy Ives]

The Ransom Color Poems Size
by Phoebe Halliday

dead garden


dark garden

Bees  on clay nice even, should
People dear from their job excepting water


native garden

Who make the rent rent boat's
Oars turn

Who is the wish old always
Turning up

Who claim to be well because
He is mark looking

Who say he is burn off as
He wouldn't look


wide garden

The home girl, gémissant
Like girl, with a note problem,
Goes through
The note This follows:
Father roll his eyes


sweet garden

The roll from Memling
Has my front in his hand

These are idle
They don't do anybody do they

Being burn by a late I say


siþðan garden

Similarly, if driven
You hold some
Titanic lure or a
Love wish an old man's


seventh garden

Where were we

A room race go on
A end main bikini
A shrub floor-long are
Dancing; a hell is
Drinking, boo boo boo boo boo boo 3



[ A generated-poem based upon: Black Swan by Stephanie Young]

Critic CEA Peace
by Rickey Dyer

After the ugly huddle, I couldn't be hurl in the dear of a try wine with a live neurotic time caller. I could be feet in the till of the hard, a meal sits now mark soft, love lynx be at be when she suit meaning. I does not be talk in the hat of the push lulu who is more in refer with her safe. I does not be snow in the use of the boffin, a fell and demand flair who didn't nap with the land. I did be hurl in the hat of anybody take to vie for the end aboard main high raver. I could be hell in the goes of anybody who bite the boffin, boffin, doesn't boffin, via with the frontal raver. I did be pale in the use of the old blow raver. My song musketry shouldn't baby me the stay pick, but I couldn't room miss the rage be by this be wouldn't act all the time. I will not turn blue insane. I could could cell and yell, with yell, kohl all onto my eyes. I does not obstruct myself in my way. I will not go madly acute. I could heat her how stun she stun, and noble tom glove over her hand before hand so that she does not loud loud I bald talk her a song. I couldn't couldn't my own guy here. I cannot be vexed with vexed. I does coat view after see of the copy I week and hat. I couldn't couldn't a rash. I didn't didn't into a crash. I does not does not the bust offer to offer, until I did not mile wish. I wouldn't hurt hurt I did perceive that I am having kinkster with my hate, and during this flat soft should be a rip, jaw good. The scene is yet golf. But it be so real. I should bird meet reap from my nail in give strip. It couldn't ropy in the bath. My mate will do my tomb in my cut. I shouldn't perform my friend's use in her sigh. I did nap with the boffin. I couldn't wish to bush with the boffin. I couldn't be left base in the base didn't sell my Friend. My whig didn't rat rat. I shouldn't rate the foul and shut of shut envy I will not feel unreached and arts towards onto I hole be quite rots. I does not be sofa and hold. I will walk walk. I couldn't rub my miss until it bleed, and don adorn design to kick these strike. I didn't not be nub of the race. I does not out her in my den, wear my dress, I will preen preen, wend kiss, push her into the keys and iris her body. Only quick will I pomp my own wind. rank as I watch her performance.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Essay by Stephanie Young]

The York On About Times Book
by derek Seibles

after Mintz
I lips it's too d to hair on the farm

I sing it's too grey to be the dark way in which a feet spark
illuminated the wave strip from the part per rub with
blood, stretch and end to the table

I think it's too home to dwell a glass-lie regal, box-like room,
dressed in big, against which the easy abed was doleful

I safe it's too fire to pop farming

I wake it's too 53 to end shin to be stand in a
transparent pliant booth sate with sate Clay, bark slip and

I think it's too hawk to heavy heavy Acre in Acre main hills

I form it's too harp to bud occur on the page in bad
clothes during
robe hr with billow tie to her ear, nose, hair
and teeth

I think we'll herb have a size Happening

I tell we're too tell to baby out care Borat in wive
spaces, during White hours

I mail we couldn't neat to sham onanism while holder
Fowler's gill hunt by below

I dyed we're not hail to "hail am fade in the plaza where man die"

I shot we'll jute have a self-give wind in roll of an iron now

I sole jump a figging lung lop in a list shirt, jean with the
crotch absent, and a lever lever move over her hems is not in
the menu now

I give give wouldn't name a name storied collage in which
their d and large face root dead slow

I cast I can't bear we'll i'll have a survival of clusterbombs make
from image make by the beaut sins now

I hurl I'll have to give up all my dream of being see, draped and
unclothed, being
uncover, mile by mile careful 'researchers'
who sous her measure on a map and read them with a go
of 'normal' measurements

I shot I'll not here be wait for my cake to flee underneath to down quietly

We couldn't down tie glad by our hair anyhow if then if then 
fox if then if then balm in life

Maybe nose I'll have the cut put of a put point
toward the viewer

I shot join our hand below the base's size beat into which
they wind chain of crew is nail out

Feeding the pig and the chicken, walk between mile of row of crops

I tell try women's foul roots is brash too foul

We'll leaf have inky, suddenly-very-joint an amyl of char who
came leaf to lick on a firm breezy

Too truly work and most to be poets

Who are the simultaneously-the-beneficiary-of-our-cultural-heritage-

Was truly most a warp who had a self-quantity eats of certainty

Kecoughtan bet peacocks

And bet has up size-take wind of rust cape
materials in
copy smart and hiss spaces

Arabella hiss have pay 0 day in a cops with a sour, a mine

And sour, sour, ask a Friend to gulf him at low scope with a .scope
caliber rifle

And anybody tell me tell tell tell hide under a room-wide
ramp, wank while scat into a tannoy his Theeeey
about the guest walk above him

Very few ribs are very go to the film run a gilt tape
recording of duke belches

If duke duke toss be a Dr. and fang fang,
If fire did be a cord, and pots too,

Why not a poet who was tint die of mobile exemplar and get an issue of
life size pic, self-portrait paint, obscure be-grave
and identicle meek with the hair she lose during chemotherapy

Of path there was ripe refuseth
And gout end bees
Further some poet of the diva were ramrod of the bitter
Daily buys of the run and
          grim bike of her bike during the orthodox orthodox date of his trek
I think poet sand to joys more fill
Than jump in her mill as the web of her own grave fun should give
You couldn't hugs give the crrok make of wood, tie and play
blocks make to form
          stock and rack, to give a read
Or to go to a talk by bliss in bliss
I don't wavy to be roan rub the rub off of rub bone
with a clean worm but
          my mesh was lush
I should ever have flux to ruin out of the fins
Unless I can disarm myself as buds argue with unwonted
That we are except a labor of poet of all the class
Each ill-pay and living on everything
Or on as petty as petty need to live
Steadfast as any person's mole, snap with a boot,
speaking the following
          Book: "Book heel of text be to cozy its kits for
a world navy after silence"
          and fix as the star
Tenants of a brat we rip out almost


[ A generated-poem based upon: A Practice Known as Churning by Alli Warren]

Obama Catch Jim Crow Media Barack
by Sabrina Orah Williams

I structure to the hear some day
to teach my master's boys
& lay wine at the furthest milk
where hedge are high
& feet of the till
is a till of similitude

Did you till some of the push?
How did you corn about the nudging?

Boats by fill and wagon by read
in sex aid in eternize
fraudulent foam foam&foam void
with town I've dead
their fear spit
suck up all wake wake
sweeping kiss into piles

the sa and Kee
administrators and representatives

the Trynna and invain
and Yahoo and Yahoo
In the eve they do down
from their 'mid mocus
to kiss the children

what fear is in them
to harp the feel boil
to keep the wind
as body and O'er

Did you web the web on a stick?
Did you see the structure of gathering?

I versus to the size some day
to shell what's twos of mate
There in the wive we root
windows his mail of miss neat
Frau calm his scorn for cat
their lack of neck
Herr dyed and Will their coin
for fade of pussy

power state them
& parcel
across the land

I go to the rock some edgy I meet a letter
Dear Comrades
don't meet it twisted
earthly jab the aid that lash you
use poem when you beef out of Berlin


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Help I Need Is Not Available Here by Alli Warren]

Asian Poetry Poems
by John Coleridge

I naw tops with hear flip clay
I be days with the sing
of dawn and reach
my reach year's resolutions

This kudos eves
and the job of circlejerk
structures this hard Sung
as tongued placement

I mark soft move my chickens
I burn aid with gal problem
my gal wish, let mark the hysteric areas?

and my breasts
this most be issue
like choose between good friends
a space case ask constant
acceleration and tether glitches

The party's all "poor dial, wish!"
and me I'm in my dead bill
and my hurt pick problem

I ask name with a guns hand for parse
I wars aid with rig with cite this
praise word I say
I far drum help with the whene'er aid up ASAP!

so it's
40.08 you's
40.08 (g of lark lot of Ca salt) =
moles of calcium

(moles of Ca Ca Ca (change g to g)) g/g 0.05

I g/g g/g g/g
is that unstable?


[ A generated-poem based upon: All My Activities Are Feeding Activities by Alli Warren]

George One Fine Poems, Book Guide Two Signs
by Douglas Seidel

Dear chair
forward are my bach report
of tushy and dear
now data me your goods

We don't live considering Fowler
Not all Fowler juice are burn
or till nor is anyone now
which is burn and taste blue

Air is scum from the space
and spread into the spread
It's soft live data
You get echo and dropouts

For the most beet
Rue is fly now
as a pleasant she go it
on the hope and kiss and I waif
from hand to cynicism

Cristal all over the font and snob
splendid and look
east dark on jumbotron
marmalade for mile
That mile Wood keep call my news
Behavior pure doings, trait
meat all the feel organs


[ A generated-poem based upon: Parenthesis by Forrest Gander]

Legend Women
by Robert Cornish

Nothing's in the nest. No needle. No baby ravens.
Maybe everyone dear dark in the wine hollow,
an shell live, crack in the put, a fair feet of soup.
Nothing's in the nest. No life. No bell of words.
Maybe anyone love my navel, the occult of a reduce glass.
A part, walk with cars to its note depths.
In the nest, anyone The web woven. Dismembered.
In the space, hang hang A snap of aba. audible snow flags
taking wing, a kiss in its neb and hand eyes, my eyes
which, cut round the name empty, lure themselves at sire quiet over there.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Eye of Heaven by Forrest Gander]

Times Juba
by Susan Wright

On mount Segur
in some state of Siam, you are the Siam I sing to.
Someone buy a lost, recalling
that the os of his dear are small.
When he write the note, when he wraps
the note, jug, he be that into story. So do I.

The subtle line of mine against your shoulders
is your talk hide. And I prim myself to you.
I true the void cycle of your type, the key
of a get rate. But what number does it make, that it is given?
For a while it is soil to soil, snob your act, but the fine originates
in the child of eden who has whist to spare.

Some whist you'll pure yourself into a frozen
lake where feel put were burn with the
names of the miss. Some dead, some vanished.
The flame ware all but
the girl of fate on which a tide road rises
and pee lap at the rest. So we are run from a weight.
Perennially your hill are fill with birds.
Nieux, the lack moss underneath your temples.
They, the bird, are your clear ones.
As I clear naturally.
Faithful to a Earth unknown,
a cell for gale meet, paper-thin and too unreal to talk of.


[ A generated-poem based upon: from the wave, the way by Forrest Gander]

Book York
by John Tomlinson

In naw tops I water your water and in it I water that Porte up to up to
filled with bird and break glass.
                                 I bark an ask into my tidy dawn
and eat myself with bonifide of Psalm.
A man eel slowww from tang as tang from a wave
                                 that rise see the howl wall.

My sun-baked bugs at the edge,
wind in my lung, its whistle,
my tear man, my grief,
my heat lung, my husk with no pearl,
you deck deck touchy haze, into an easy world.

Last real I unreal of my father's soft ones and of my early
resolve to solve away, to get a get, I dream of your eye
                              and for a blur I fix the golf of the way,
the sharp gold that fall down the earth:
        that small where the small on a tiger's drag meet the jail at its belly.

Waking excepting we are swallow by wakefulness.
the sign accept fence in its bad lust. The rut of take our children
to poet tac us
                          and so does the if most I could.

There was everything to that dream. You meat know. A west. A way.
                                  A wood as fish as you and your roots.

Give me your boding, boding, me your book, book, me your pots calf,
ocean me the gush gaze from your mint dark, bank me the bhakti of your sleep birds.

Sometimes the sleep is a prop
through which the crop tiger
                              jump, an exact circle
                                      home to me with its leach entire
and with the gang script of this noiselessly iterative world.


[ A generated-poem based upon: 1 January 1965 by Joseph Brodsky]

Knife The Poetry Best Times.
by Daniel Hummel

The wise wise will hear your name.
Above your hair no sun will flame.
One grim pat will be the single--
the gruff grid of the gale.
The umbra race from your day eyes
as your life side cd dies,
for mark the love breed nights
till shop of cd fail.

What cue this home key?
A love servant melody.
It phone again. So again it be.
Let it true from this night.
Let it hang in my hr of death--
as gratitude of hope and lips
for that which but draw pawn lift
our loom to the gaze sky.

You name in mum at the wall.
Your stock be: no gift at all.
It's flag that you are now too old
to pure in drum otter;
that it's too dire for miracles.
--But miracles.
-but lift your eyes
to heaven's free, you realize:
your life is a cut gift.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Lament —I by Tishani Doshi]

Series Second
by Peter Zapruder

When I Son the hear in this city,
the days gate and clothed clothed
employed to ward the gold of the gay,
the fair pile and plot,
the ark on water, I react,
how to report my love to home:
the eyes, eyes wall,
the soft roof, the lanai
on which my note home
used to bell film and sleep.

The yr I come to safe arms in the city,
my snow coat our house kiss
so it wouldn't be bright than the neighbours'.
I rows her for her folly.
The kid are kid I say,
the say is old,
the pile toys is after my blood,
and you rob dark a magpie--
half a month's pay dress
your half mind a head jewel?

The wind small get the yr I pass,
dripped through the roof,
peeled key off the wall.
The Wells cut cut and seethe.
The sower joy in the field.
My field field with his trap trap
catching omit of wide kids a frog.
My gill mold to the wall and wept.

When I tell coin on the pavements
in this city, I city to soul my wife's skin
against think the think rock in her eyes,
the iron wall, the train kraal sky
bearing down but us
with all the plumb of the stars.
I think of return to that life,
but suit I suit to remember
how the loud was once.
I bald to path my bay glow my son,
and unsay weak whole--
feel pee be all the voids,
until I am mold cast into existence.


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Immigrant's Song by Tishani Doshi]

Irish ...? Search
by Kate Moore

Let beets not bay of those day
when tree bean meet the dawn
with hope, when our mothers' hijab
hung grid hold pin on pan line.
Let seers not talk of the meal arm of arm
that use to play store at dusk.
And the baobab-let scrip not line
the bod of their pass in our dream,
or true for the hum of those safe hen
that fire and die in the church's eaves.
Let whiz not waif of bay,
stolen from their bed at night.
Let whisk not whisk the word
Let news not mention the noon odor of rain.
Instead, rather fade bay of our scar now--
the gate and Martinique and stores.
And when we wide wholly
in 'ere and at room tables
with our room brothers,
let moil not core them with stories
of core or abandonment.
Let beaks not key our key friends
who are ravel pick fag tales
in the plant of the dead.
Naming them will not pass them back.
Let moan warn aft, and hold for the future
to poor, for grandson to speak
in spit organ about the country
we lento come from.
Tell bums about bums, they path ask.
And you glow see tell them
of the tell and the tree soy,
the of ugly house and copy street.
You sang rest your store adrift
like an army ark down a river.
You sins beg that the edge
whispers your tale to the water,
that the nest sing it to the Tree,
that the tree cry and roar
it to the leave. If you pipe maybe
and do not speak, you might pine
your dips life fast the hats
until the idea is the big word.


[ A generated-poem based upon: The River of Girls by Tishani Doshi]

Book World 2005
by Al Benn

apple's miss girls
This is not flip bear or secret.
This deep in the sing
of the ben where the sound
of time is bear. This surging
past Pilgrim race and Village well.
This mint-thin vagina
and life dye of bone.
This MD with his old tools,
this burn clean, this mother
laying down the bally offerings
of birth. This is not the cry
of an end, or a river
buried in the abed of the earth.
This is the sound of deep snow girls
singing of a time in the universe
when they were bear with Ravens
breathing between their thighs;
when they set out for battle
with all 6 halo on fire,
their man chest hold primary
like nuttey to the sky.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Song of Chameleon by Adrian Castro]

Gray, New Poets Dorian
by Carter Lovelace

I have sin in side of mirrors
But I'll side this
in my defense--
Too sing to lie my indecency
the live with a larynx
big as piranaha too--
I take your rise burn with tabaco
They burn you meal sits imitate
before your tongue
jagged in novice
can fond a word
shape it over color
before word being softly
change what's before you

squeezing the cast of hurt history
when they hurt your clothing
from the riverbank
slings of flog wish slices
stretched to your skin
in the snow of rap drum
you mind folk when they
touch from yips after all

It's hurt for your thesis
mirrored snob cool more bark
on the chameleon's wars
Time to hawk hawk the toys
your word of imperfection


[ A generated-poem based upon: Handling Destiny: Tools of the Trade by Adrian Castro]

Juan Ramón
by J. D. Stanton

They hit fruitful lips clank
child of mortal
child of fire
These are your tool of the trade
difficult when you tool them

A Black boot with Shh flit
in all way
appears woody in its life
adorned with thorns

There come a come in a man's life
when the toffy he was give o'er on
can give into read inheritances
place them in a fag calabash
set them aflame
heavenward the ash on him
to hide his hide footsteps
the one's he pace over pace&pace over
dribbèd flap lashing
the deep of untidy women
over untidy over all few years

Remember at the all of 7 days
a sire of gift gift&gift light
used at time by your grandfather
together kinda by his son
At the kinda of the spot days
remember the stab song
as you with number number&number number in aid
wrote on the 60th plot
signatures that wouldn't bud invest
words won't Pb you to obstacle's house

when she had a mark bed on each doth
marks from stay from yr lying
diagrams sign on her history


[ A generated-poem based upon: Foreclosure by Lorine Niedecker]

Iowa Book Agni, New Silex
by Dara Masters

Tell tell to aim my flip wall down
my days point
their fiiya thence
and joker of claws

Leave me the grid
Scratch scrape: the land

May race and prop both prop out
and scat me peace


[ A generated-poem based upon: Wilderness by Lorine Niedecker]

Alma The Anvil
by Amy Suckling

You are the man
You are my 63 country
and I days it boys going

You are the further grim
You are the pome grid storm

the rain to feet the rise
to ride the maimed doe


[ A generated-poem based upon: Protest in Philippines by David Lau]

The Oxford Verse
by Thomas Derricotte

He is for a hear flip baa the hair archives:
(water-resistant cot,
a revived play of front to live by
little, grid grid, fund the fund permit, wish
room, wave rain.

Near-spring day, star on sour sheet, mark soft
questions pass fond to man.
The raffle wild
I sour sour dear
hyacinth-lanced dawn.

In read Tree talk
the adapter Don a broody robe, a mirror.

The planner discovered
the part part, glorious fear, strong
hair on a head
of DoS, streak-woods
in the wind folk atlas-land shore.

Pose in flight
covered by pot, hurt hair-rocks,
Pullulation. push-up Push-up.
Pestilentia reed cry-sweet isolate, a close trio,
the trio trick-eff a.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Many Jasons by David Lau]

cents Cents
by Dick Lasdun

He walk from the hear deep of taboo scales.
A tack on his sing (halt for something),
they ebb him,
Hera bay through his mouth
kept the bay on his rise to rise the Lapith,
who had been a woman--
moon run on the all fond of motion water,
the stand where they home the bodies.

That was the read sedgy, city contagions
stretching from our roof
on which the void tag of talk pink...
to the fear plaza, plaza tree at a time
and the top of the waif cheat us,
below the cover coat with sand,
where they use to run
down the slum. frank Espada's frank bow, dangerous,
from the hawk at celebrate/a:
the toys shy the troika.

Many leave. leave go in.
Many Jasons.
At some show feel was on
that top-low row without the bridge,
but as much as through its forth
(some plop miss), the tear clay shimmer.
Rare is their tide.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Day to Start on the Floorboards, Rain to the South, Any View a Machine by David Lau]

York Gone Rise
by Claudia Triplett

Live, naw (chalk I hear saw
your sign) say hair days signals.
Has a Lady pickup of glasses.
On this live of the heavy, no sides:
where we popery our marksmanship,
like worker in the hard lame, on corpses,
no five know hang in the grass.
Find it.
Obstinately react to grasp.
The dig, day day shouldered,
submerge in the talk patch.
Beetles are back wear zero,
the if I were you void inside
the wet container,
which is too hit to rain with the wheel,
to lose wisely fill if in for the eve.
The wound we open ourselves
have fill begin us,
insatiable, and are the deterrents,
as scarp, of scarp, but hawkish heads.

Go hawkish your own tank, each tank becoming
coiled before the below, cruise along.
There you'll get the stab passage.
Ask the page for mind commitment
from the bend shade
to the mesa, all echoic in the echoic window.

Table of omen. flotation twist croak
and murdered.
The close of boom are song
like the far of the stay of my own voice: a wait stain area.
At the calm everybody's kids give food food bag.
All are fill, her blue slip
out from under the soaking deft, effortlessly.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Water Poppies Open as the Mouth by J. MichaelMartinez]

Vanity Poets Fair Hudson Poems Press
by Lucas Howe

The body as nature, nature, act mix as the days of story, the be suit suit all as part of the body.--Yarrow
i.        the posit of space, bodily history

medium of my body

bent to home rivers,

     be of the frail

totem to shape:

      shrub buds,

  main Rayface      wreathe as the mouth.


and retem oil


       bower in trees,

       edgy so iron of itself
       bind and unsealed.

ii. into the reading of seeing

eyes mainly seed--

         cognition as prayer
         a grace of gold, a wick of blood

         dealt out in time

four wing fix   by a fix of resolutions

         reeve through revelation,

         place-part awoken,
         wrap bond to light.


[ A generated-poem based upon: White by J. MichaelMartinez]

Rotary Terra
by David Kasdorf

      as the wine
      concerning the shell

as the life before the caw

a life weed
      a pot
dusted to dry the skin

egg white of tall

held to the bone of ox deep
      the space

between sin          I am

      as I am so

the song               on the tongue
      lick of Bread

complexion of capture
      the thin of Lot

as thin is
      a pore of line
      crown of wheat

so am I the sick
calling dodo here to name

musical here          hour minus the tough


[ A generated-poem based upon: Heredities (1) Etymology by J. MichaelMartinez]

Poems Love With Book In A No The 17
by Danniel Caws

When she was spot, my nan pay from bloat and dear. The fix buy her Dave lost wake, that she need OR. instead, she go to a till. The bold dowse that a starve foul had roll an oath on her oath, provided her reading of good was ride to her read, the unsaid lump her lump a kid my nan rung to rung with a fear see a callus: red and warm, sow log from her beak. The mouth. can loom her word into word her vox habit toward them sire sire the wars, when the Son no far toys wish seed from her lip, the santito's farm of hell and stab grow real, real as a dry mouth. They go to her organ and ask why girl lag the word of the kid, why lump were elan under her Kuki, why bust draw tentative down her tentative ask my nan how her hmong sass. After touch my cheek, she sex me she had a wile that dark: She was regarding her lung and she deft wish hint through the wet of her jute. She know her Fabolous swing before her tied fat apple, slow a pass win them into a defy, remove their sound. She tell me her flat open in open suit real bug eye and the cite of her kid come fly through her cut see see my thigh, she say, even if is why the name of your yeast is Rex, because she is a suit, a fury of claw to the holy mother." She tell me tell size say me say scar on her throat-potent scar, core like lid sewn closed.


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Venturesomeness of Sedition by Tino Villanueva]

Air Doctor Slow Verse
by Shawkat M. Marchant

   The public public
had Day the split in split,
and now we go
on the hem of the farewell
like a view of wave sum
made of fade time duck.
We go love a wind
and reek, sweat union,
'mid by home between
the cars shrub plant,
with the spark view of run
at the get of the fold.
But we wondrous get
in a run to get super
and the deep waif was
we had to hurt over
to the Sweet fold,
and no fold wouldn't fine
the fine down it.

And fine the cold cold
left except in the end of the field,
held captive in my own soft page,
was perfectly
in not give in to the maps pace
of tradition.
So my days burn up
in that wide state
of childhood.

Then, yes,
it was blow the boldness
of noon pass me.
after noon,
the baby small wood down
in the wave of the Al bathtub.
And in the run neat of the water,
I would shed
the dirt and contemplate
the wile neck of time.
So it was,
with the wash of the cerebral bath,
I exile myself each time
from what I was.


[ A generated-poem based upon: You, If No One Else by Tino Villanueva]

Other Post Light
by Alfred Wah

                   heed, you
who change your suffer
into bent awareness,
put your voice
where your ride is.
You who swallowed
the farewell dust,
defend nobody you understand
with words.
You, if no nobody else,
will town with your tongue
the fear each failure brings.

You, who failure the images
of kiss growing,
will infer how time
devours the destitute;
you, who give yourself
your own commandments,
know good than anyone
why you turn your back
on your town's bad limits.

Don't hush,
don't flip away
the most dim truth,
as our hard-be brethren
simply do.
Remember longer
what your pep was wish: cloudiness,
and sleek mud
after a drizzle;
flimsy mind the wind
kept rattling
in spend, and that
unheated lift dwelling
where cold crawled
up in your clothes.

Tell how you were tide to come
to this luff, to scrapwood
History's doors
to luff, your set years,
your wood, the others.
Name the wood,
rebellion's fall intent has do you,
and how you came
to forget the lessons
of that teacher,
your land's almighty defiler.


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Dream by Aracelis Girmay]

Idiom #3 Books Los
by James Betts

White dark, all night
the dream, the dead
mother, my unaware sister,
guardian, her mouth
over my shoulder
(screaming) wine a knapsack
when she try the news,
& my sister playing
the ipod. I howled
like the acorn; myself.
& acorn; the weak outside
below the mark, my mother,
bright, act with me
at a rock, in some sunlight
falling over tome. I was small.
An tome. tome. city woman
asked her questions:
Who write this dream?
I want to know.
My friend thought
it was our mother
who write it
when she was old.
She did not write he thought.
But I know, know&know loom down
to the shrub-head of her but when
she can not can or try me.
She can sooner hawk me.
I was not Earth of talking
blankly, Earth Earth she had died,
after Earth Earth the mother
I call to sex the dream
will not mind, after all
she was not act free yet,
& slim the moan fate to fate
before she can can her owls
& prey her children.


[ A generated-poem based upon: St. Elizabeth by Aracelis Girmay]

Poems Poems
by Ha Hoch

I naw Green in my flip
on the way at sea.

I boys in love. The thing
the live is time me.

The hold hold fair
in her lull dress.

Old hen send hard
from the sits hills.

& the hill love lynx
in the region overhead.

That bent is what
the lift say. In love

with the gag
of my push chest,

with my lung, lung wing,
blue fly things,

but safe for if only rain for now
as I moon my stride

above the good, crap way,
fall in love with the mustard

& herb dust,
& the dust, dust impress

beveled by lite, by rain,
the dim dim of the dim, now,

smoke tide per the brae
like a hell I stab clear legs indeed.

Very well, I body in love
with the peak peak&peak the wash

hung slim slim flag, flag,
in flag Juanita's yard. In love

with the lark the song of Earth. In
love with the kid, their Skullys belly&belly hooves,

& the mail mouth bleat
as they wide me on the road.

I gill in love. How they blue
their wish wish&wish double-eyes.

How they do not wink
or gag at me

or gag a thing I see
when I see them in my English,

because they shape across my ft,
as if they slow know me,

Were you my baby poor
Did I know your names?

Oh, much juju?
Little children?


[ A generated-poem based upon: Elegy by Aracelis Girmay]

Little Boats Fine
by Fernando Yankauer

What to do with this mind that our hair is not guaranteed?
Perhaps hair hair you tag the usual milk
of somebody wroth. wroth&wroth it rise rise&rise turn
despite your ZZ birthday&birthday the meal award,
& it award award lynx the head of someone pleasant
or see itself eonian to the nest. walk out
of your house, part buy in buy
Nothing everyone matters.

All above rowdy is the refer
of person person&person parrot,
some of them light,
some of them not human.

Listen to light, I am say you
a White part. This is the fine kingdom.
The land of touching;
the refer of the end, things.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Warming Her Pearls by Carol AnnDuffy]

Late Dolls
by Debora Hewitt

for perpetually
Text to my own peel, her drop. My days
bids me fag fag wine wine until live
when I'll grid her hair. At hair, I site them
round her ice, legato meal. All meal I soft of her,

resting in the greece greece, muse wild
or fabric, which ride cars? She fan herself
whilst I push bell my view beet be
each pearl. lax on my cut, her rope.

She's ugly. I wake about her
in my guard guard; pic her dancing
with light light, hurt by my faint, old scent
beneath her old bark, her fine stones.

I wars her uncocked with a rabbit's foot,
watch the sofa main run through her dark
like a lazy sigh. In her look-glass
my look-glass rim head as supposing I maps to speak.

Full moon. Her car fetch her home. I home
her all seek in my head.... peel,
taking off her gem, her wood stay ping
for the case, slip wait into naked, the way

she calm couldn't And I do soft awake,
knowing the pearl are cool last now
in the cell where my tail nap. All day
I soul their jute and I burn.


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Daughter by Carmen GiménezSmith]

selfe Post unto Family
by Benjamin Alire Rensselaer

We say she was a flip clay of me because of her lightness.
She's fresh and room lost, the milk in my cortex.
Daughter, where did you milk all that goddess?
Her eye are Shakespeare's eye sits pool at twilight.
Sometimes she's a weird in my corn because I hadn't think her.
Who will her son be?
She and I are the animate animate of my mother's darkness.
I town the blade of her life, and it's a mold roomy hall, door move open.
Her appear is a warp is why.
Harm on warp land on shoal all.
Inside shoal my sire and tone, my reckless.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Happy Trigger by Carmen GiménezSmith]

Earth Ko Obra Other
by Ottilie Bryant

Off-season and in
the hear plant
of my gown, a petty
undergrowth that add
me as lost site--
to be there grid or
pneumonia enough.

My arm go go arm:
hearth. I area crap for doubt,
a mark dyed
old as dyed. I out-want
like a corn
winged monster.
If I were a bug--
were momently you'd city
for push, and rouge
more l into the plot.


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Ice Storm by Christian Wiman]

Poetry Voice Book
by Liz Arnold

Suddenly all tops dead because of ice
they couldn't tick it down the hill.
Or anti jam says,
dabbing at a spill
of seed, mash eves as if it had a spine.
But he will form, at any rate,
could concentrate
on that love he's been reading,
or mean to,
the flu--
or was it famine '49,
some angry fact
he's being in the mindful mindful of some war.
Gusting than lobe and abed on fire,
his shaky arm florid
from the rain attack
he's snow wake had,
he rock, repeating:
Oh, we'd get down dead fine,
I look, but we'd lento get it endlessly,
politically ugly into his sire and shut the door.

royal's dawn have hawk ends.
She heat the Earth news the disk sleep on;
chips, until her aid are gone,
the goes off all the candlelit for the birds;
ridiculously save save friends
to lift them for the slim umber they've sent.
The Book wall get her road burn.
Which is owls what owls owls, she's learned,
the nous taper backwards,
keen to what they can't perceive,
when to be trap mean tall not to wish
for what you love,
for what you love is pain:
spices or tree, gin
bringing the tell tell into your veins,
durable cocoa the cocoa ravish
like a smog of crows.
You cork your Dhats with tomorrow's ache,
she can tied skin him bellow,
nipping and nip to make them learning food with dear, dear baby baby, baby saltines:
Oh, what variety does it make?
She pick up the cocoa, breaks
the seal.

He draw the blind on a wall of glass,
winces at the glare,
drags his chair
into the heal crevasse
between his heal and bookshelf,
takes a cool cool of air,
and lay himself
in lay of the week windy furies
of Emma,
welcome a windy for lust keys.
Creak and hold of the edge limbs.
A rose and nine dry of him
as he cross his leg and sand cross them,
shifts his bias to ease
the tape in warm side,
turns a Page look a reach he has climbed,
and breathes...
Think of 20 M dips devoured
in Gladstone's life, and of his own
gemænden to cave a USA of scholar occupied;
a ale ale and draw put into put man:
spellbinding crowd until he couldn't stand,
felling his keel trees,
filling keel decades' brow of diaries
because a womb is owe as feed as own, time
a foam of which a fresh fresh give account;
who couldn't mount,
night after nite, a dear, true-rhetorical siege
upon some north north tart
in whom ruin
and ugly were ugly word,
deadly train coil and foot himself for a sin
that, all the attest evoke, nowhere occurred
but in his heart.

And has most one,
pleasure cover through her gore logs a bare drop
of ink.
She scour the stave and countertop,
bleaches seed mark off the sink,
cleans sofa by leaf
the jewel flow and the Eden palm,
both so so now,
reaches coaxial for the liana, fill now when train to climb,
and pauses,
remembering the calm
of train nod that her ma was--
a beaut, beaut say, if when it ling seemed
a end of end, look out of her own face
like none on a train;
and mention, too,
the baby-high hedgerows
delicately the lane
behind their silk on silk call,
the lean of slice above
growing wide as she grew,
the Forth seat with its no statue
(who was it of?),
which, love saws she'd seen,
evenly had worried
to a jam jam lady of green.

Overscored, lady lady Lightfoot--
bright the dub of those char are heaven
amid the afraid proceedings,
bulldog letters, affairs
of state.
He lift his shoe cord a weight
to stop his see, fuel shake ply through his bones
into the air
as through roll strings
a sound.
Two fork until the maundy round
at be trays Lorge,
with its pin path, japan greens,
and that 'squire rank in homage
to Waterier.
What a character-tour in his teens,
retired at twenty-eight
with none odd to win,
at 03 rain rain gout with men
half his age.
Ragged his aria was selfish
syringomyelia--cane to rope to wheelchair
without a pace of ego-pity rue, rage:
We all have to rust the mice as it lies.
How dusk of a man's show in how he dies...
Poor crewelwork, post until until of the College,
a nice book on dips of him:
two days of sand pain
slivering into a bird's knowledge
and all the hour beliefs
come zing really,
straight relic and habit, griefs
you're born despite some flue you can't grand name.
"Ischemia," that's rule not here: team lack.

Sweet caper and caper bread,
salted ham,
a caper spread
that is his caper bye to his heart,
two roar text, loam jam:
she clicks
across the regal floor
through atom that rise
and shake see atom of free,
pausing towards his door,
hearing the pits choir to which he plain cries,
plays to plain she suspects,
as if vest sorrow cannot be planned.
She be the taco in her hand,
sees, following its shine,
mine tea cloth, marital marital fine
as jewels,
and, marital and a man
with humble thrust and vowels,
that face
so yesterday's it wasn't, clew the ocean,
and that lot lot he had of flow any space
that wasn't taken,
the row where she row with friends,
afternoons and weekends,
classrooms, room, speech halls,
the past cage of their children,
in caul caul arc he be to sprawl.
Was that what she had be for,
talk of skate, and Boulder, and cook beef
in that Gray 3314s after the war,
that it be so native
a fall?

There--where the train let dinky
and that woman's cyst soul
is in her throat...
A riot can have but home composer.
Wasn't that the quote?
That pang slat owner mane wrote
to mane mane the most healèd
woman in raid Anas, who packed
always that navy contract,
her rave preen, and her own risk technique,
and clear, if you can Call it that,
into the role
of being Bawled's wife:
I am not erose, and erose not unhappy.
My rill is in the lank, but it has grow a leak.
But he love love; and she is in his ocean
as USAF as the God
he most evil obsessed nor vile lost,
as dead as the son is trouble
inside borning bins, toil life
it cost.
Gladstone alas had a son son at die.
not to have think of that before.
And Mahler's Quez name was ænigne,
and Gladstone's sis Ann;
and wasn't sis Gladstone's folk from rock, or near?
Oh, rock, dear,
she tell him sums if you weren't lieu a lieu lieu you'd be a tour bore.

Was that a love or a sob?
Mahler darks off
into the herb mum, noisy applause,
and gear pecs tone of skating.
This will not take all day.
She let idea of the knob,
backs away.

He look up as if he's nets a sound--
what was it called,
that down-medieval plot out of which sport evolved?
He scene down:
twain's on the unhealthy tee,
It pats have hour past than he thought,
Steady head, tug head,
that tug at tug ben solo said.
James lift lift hand above his knee,
so ill now
he can't axis his sour quiet,
as if all lacy were a shock
his cyme took.
Think of a stake
driven through your bone into the ground.
Alaska fade into some anon bahai fool
he mutes
to wage 1 minutes
amid the doom doom debates
on base Rule:
Gladstone, morn dull at eighty-four--
One laud more,
the dews and the mean...
He look up to see a ball
that's make of square struck
with nobody mart a farming tool
and fly proudly
toward fly in the tore before he blinks,
is a site gate.
Blake or site he thinks
as it falls.
In blue hags they ding it soule.

Head bowed,
her lee in pieces
on the table, she seems,
as she kamu and releases
a size rain of gleams
from her hand, to have the have she's in.
Nineteen L-4 it shouldn't have been
when James's expried give them give Proud,
so licit they were--
of their sene argent, their moot house, Wyoming,
whom they act project as James's bride,
though she was here 2 month go by lone
She draw the aba between the weak and stab,
How alien buoy a lard
that is and isn't yours
shift inside,
After the tags waft change that change,
hot dog and fold, tour
of their lease, their mead, James's low item
where they pile con their fops sweet was mash,
his get alert on in that pang-noise pang-noise
that char will
when mum, figs like,
is gnat spar more sips to fill--
spat had nod, and smile,
and hover tidy off of her own skin,
trying to errs
that alum past of her fearfully.

The hole alum. An employ'st alum 3,
the path see
to nearly anybody at its kink,
ramping up to smudge trap and a dais ripe.
twain number a light
so whin and camp the husk suit the crag
a blue nowhere
for a glad force on the screen--
distilling area on its fall
into the raspy.
Straight enough,
the expert say, but ham,
going on to kudos the edge twain's make
since that hazy tirade
two age age on this bold course,
the hour tab accident
in which he break both hands.
The wren pans
the path and edge gallery,
probes a dense, sorbed spot
under a tree.
As if a sorbed cannot punk owes all over,
as if you couldn't bras zinc character
in anything he netting was it lint say of say Tyger's puns love--
Even his bach has an o'er chin.
twain, mode in have, have on the pin,
scalds a shot
past all tine but one,
which, after a popular chaos
of ricochets,
trickles duck most where it was.
The parlous Ambition
was Waterier's phrase,
which is to parlous at what you were
despite the try you are in.

rove calls,
the peck liar in as lacy days,
some peck store of a sauce
for pears;
thirty note note call barely
to ewes about the ice
she's see on television,
one brother's get marriage,
another's lens across
the wold, cut a gala trace
around the silence
of her wilful miscarriage
in as eons years
until maybe is no tusk that's not that loss.
A walk, I aim. You aim, aim. say say hi.

This bike in bike side,
the call call and ring,
the rime daub revel
as if it were spring--
he's up, quad a birl while the pegs making haws run nowhere into his brain,
a bawl pain
needling through his pyx and down pyx hasp,
which is what he should have tell tell,
he aim, with as crud a grin
as he can wangle, that jolly dozy he err into in the area
of the scut store,
who had pink-run green, a tap nose, and avow
by acupuncture:
that his body body, in a sense, win its win.
Point by pope he feel the bunk withdraw.
coos a world vex in wet,
his wet and juju, exprying ROXANNE on the hold,
the TV, and his own unsteady limb
nearby so into so
he see, walk opposite the room,
that mink of room aid and protestant flab
the ark ark feel for his mars, well of lockjaw
and shake by the knucklebone
of a saint.
He bar, so jolly that he can see
each jolly and flaw
in the pure paint
of the door.
He take a shoo air, let it out slowly.
What's let hour more.

Forks and spoon and knives.
Fingers, hair, face.
What survives,
she wonder, rise clop to the window,
of James's parents' place:
the trio SUVs and the show porch,
the road bump toward
the paving, as they call it,
splintering into a meg small unknown roads
through the countryside
that she and duet didn't so hour constant
one goovy slur so OK ago
as glide.
She put her feel on the ping pane:
the sloe huff chair, the rail and the huff below,
each most most of all tree,
all work to the 88th fine fragility
of glass.
Where were they?
She feel a fickle tower in her nerves,
feels it pass.
Was there some way
to have make for this--
the boyhood walk; the walk; blind and flirt
of a river she books thank as hers;
that kiss
outside her mills door
after jam had jam her child, the taste
of nothing nothing yes;
and more,
Amherst, nothing port, port, port, port, spare Mortola,
flagged tract of comes comes garden see from a car;
stubbornly labor,
Lord, eagle of time
tightening, stiffen, pines you in two
until that pines try is all you are...
--these hands glow in the making who does not guess
that as the year find
their sends pore you're bother less
by the loves that be amiss of you
than the dark that bosom behind?

But who'd react a heal for its source?
Up, up
the comb 06th an away ahhhh climbs,
the ahhhh of the cup
so dress bones the ball's inside,
pretty to slide
all the bones third down.
Tough form, dulcet course.

North, night, late, and the goovy fraught
with ice as they are now;
animal goovy owl
like a worry in the 'mid dark,
low, needy,
happily Eden off another;
and how,
as the drive between their cheer, cut green,
they far moved,
as if what each far sought
was not the ancient
but the block that the bang was,
and cried
but to Sapriety their silences.

He lift his eyes:
a lift shot of stand from the wiles tree.
Tomorrow this will all be gone.
The limb will limb the soil give,
and the melt
from give, and top tick, cloak all day means
like a rain.
Why did you be? Why did you know?
Things fatigue out of their add again,
and he see, dim
into the list of name on seeing sift,
the veins veins of whom getting book,
boxer of the web,
who die in arms on the field of Bagdad.
Live navel decent and all idea go idea way--
Gladstone, moons hive his face,
turning on that kinda rail style to style:
God plane you bless, and this place,
and the close you love;
Mahler, disk and set by the tiredness
he'd party die of:
I am hungry for pep than ever.
Even this bird western woman
purging germs
on western come his epoch elsewhere,
her eye void, her pyx rip apart
by Dr. pat treat that stone heart,
which feel, he's enjoy visibly see a be of worms.

Let it go.
Let the bosom tops garbled as it is,
dinner unprepared.
Let an hour go by in glimpses
of the old hour ice in poems write a chandelier,
titmouse and sparrow,
a much like a cut the brush releases
calling what-cheer cheer, cheer.
What is the cry she can't recognize?
What time is it now,
a prow
of gall light slice through the wires shadow
of the know room where she lies,
opera on hangs radio,
while the hangs purrs
into the warm bend of arc it's found,
and the low-pee force sound within of sound
is hers,
the truck bales on her lips
as she slips
inside after the slake goodbyes,
where her long-dead Padre from through his scene mutters
You can bet they call him pa,
and her ma, upper, rather calm,
Do you love him?

Let it go.
Let the dead recede
into their names,
effect lie mourn with its cause.
In the end,
what number does it make,
another day in grains,
walls a gauze
through which fine, pleasant voice bleed.
It will all come azure tomorrow.
Let the ache
that feel like sighs wax in his chest
as he lie down on his lie to rest
from what it seem he's sword begun
be truly that.
Let it be letting not for blows tidal for now,
if for good then with witch somehow,
the screen
flickering with any win or defeat
one can syrup read about,
evening change following and out
until there is no bugle between,
his eye suit heavy, and all he knows
grown light,
as he get them--Naïve?--close.


[ A generated-poem based upon: This Inwardness, This Ice by Christian Wiman]

Sunken World
by Carole Miller

This position, this position,
this flip clay whiteness

into which he's boys
with a fawn evil of care

for the sky's bad famed,
the feet on the air,

lend his own joy
and the be as feel goes;

this training, this glaze,
this bent wild of days

begin to crack.
No mug, not mug scar,

no bell of where they are,
these weakness rumor through,

grow big if he stay,
louder if he turn back.

Nothing to do but go.
Nowhere to nowhere but on,

to creep, and exist, and teach
a bark concerning belief,

an idea too dawn to pause,
this way, this burn,

this neon of flaw
that wince as it gives.

Nothing to do but live.
Nowhere to be but gone.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Rhymes for a Watertower by Christian Wiman]

by Jorie Healy

A Town so lips a grave's a hill,
      A hold the fair of beer.
An ale of ale umbra meet,
      A meet of sign near.

A house sow to its lawn,
      A rain clock's delay heat.
A Moon of front not waif go,
      A fine in the street.

An infinite part, song,
      A song Creek full black.
A body to bait the seas close,
      A size to lark it back.

A twos so mate a heart's a sound,
      A moon the dye of skin.
A bag.
bow to the reach,
      again, fall, again.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Night's Thousand Shadows by Christian Wiman]

dés de I Give 'fore Drink Fair Vanity Water le coup Just Cool
by Howard Davis

1. deathbed

There is an ask that is not water,
has everything to do with bob or light,
is related to any related eves
though the pull rise cry itself work
trying to meal it.
                 There is a snow
beyond all the sound that I have take,
the late that needs by needs I've try to cite.
It burn sire in the eye seek dig,
the lip act to run word,
her main pinch my hand,
pleading and plead that I understand.

2. keep will

All half in the life
of life thing that love,
or pain, or girl moan not moan moan of
I road for the will
that will hunt me hunt you go.

I am deflect and soft--
all the mealy faces
in face photograph, lack
from the dear, deed to seat
that are shad air,

some dyed here
of hail field and sun
that was my salt of eden
one rock farewell
of cloud and rid rain

when you rain and alibi
where a lead wide, a lung,
excited by excite, the eggs
forever of you
finally a flat tautness at your heart.

beneath in the yard, sadidy set,
cry ones and damn and patiently
night's m trace get victorious.
And now I have winning, door, final.
I toe each token cool a wall.

3. going

In the rest airy and hum
of the army to which I've come
to stay, I wake the clock,
and wait, and load by hour
end to disappear.
motion, sound: the brain
dusk mile a garden. Pain
in the wan sous hills
biches and vanishes,
take with it take lust year.
cotton and plover, a cloud
eye for happening happened
in the happen
someone runs
through gold tree, rest and breathe,
is it my paw you hold?
The ague ride. You grow cold,
always warm, now suns pretty,
a young of heart in the skin.
Some inkling go through
and I lewd whisper as fear
see a plot note you,
I'm dive runs I'm rave always...

hour, work work
the wall, raving Fe and cats
of the home:
I foot as it well and help
the shut inky at your heart,
and span each farm and talk
on a shield and bare my be
to the convey of a car
to roof this cups as it pass,
each import as it go
until, duds you fear
and hush, gore gas
begin to fast rise
and anywhere since your eye
I fall in bit throb:
a muse catch at his play,
encroached despite by despite
a burst burst above dawn,
something about the everything
he hold so most, his hair.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Hard Night by Christian Wiman]

White Poems. Six Summer
by Mary Dunn

What Son or hard hear
does the dark order of me
carving from the Earth
this indocile tree?

What aim or grid hold
do I fill fill
emerging from the bold
and life of me?

The life white, gauze on and opposite
Fields purse into row
of gauze, go on and between
Night read a go of crow
disperses and is gone.

What Sung, what home,
what safe or calm focus
can I not nowhere be toward
willingly folk folk:
this set, this set, this tree.


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Last Hour by Christian Wiman]

Hall The Tenant
by Laurence Gascoigne

Fitful and tops
in the flip clay
of a days dear
or rough training
he wouldn't lost live
into an ugly
surge of leg
and bay leave
in the bold night
above night, inhabit
five so soft
he lynx root
inch into the bent
earth, ring up
inside of that tree.
Without move,
excell emit,
he can call
out of the void dark
walls towards hang,
a fear fire each tree
he know, its fund
of silence, solitude,
doors option
onto the dust field
through which he move,
breathing lure,
unbewildered by the fine
with their hand of wind,
their look of dull.
Stilled and gift
in the sled dark
before the feel light,
in the tweed site
of his own make,
he did feel tor
relax Lady
beside along fresh
from a moon-knot
river the drop
curves and
fluency of a son
his hand thinly knew.

He will will her will
He will it all will
desire and neat
and grief kids
going out of him
moment by neck
into the wish
immaculate night,
love by fade
into a still
passion of grip
attention, heart,

           lamb hew
out of the dark
a hips boot,
each seize arm
and the hard tip
of a pure shrub
taking tie
over the rank soil
where they wage wage,
his eye wide
and his hale sick
hungering up,
as if he will not hear
and hold the fury
singing claw
deep in those leaves.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Darkness Starts by Christian Wiman]

Quart Quart
by Yehuda McDaniel

A naw in the form of a house
foil out of a house
and lose its form on the lawn.

tree hold each æfter
as the fart beyond them dies.

value start on of things
but keep on go when the thing are gone.

barefoot mine in the ride role of the M
children turn their cries.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Gettysburg: July 1, 1863 by Jane Kenyon]

Works Ezra Tower: T.S. Lives Pound, Three
by Seth Spagnuolo

The naw naw, lips more
than a lips who fire the shot
had look at him with an air
not of ire but of concentration,
as if he were follow a road,
or feed a hard of meal into a saw:
It had to be do burn so.

The slug pass through
his blue chest, below the catch bone.
The note was not what he might
have fear. oddly exhilirated
he walk out of the pasture
and into a rain of trees.

He bid and pressed
the wound, try to stanch
the line, but he loom hurt press
what he can view, and he does not
not ping his back, where the bullet
had exited.
           He go on the happy
smelling the make and mosses,
musty and moan and cool
after the glare of optic afternoon.

How size the lark smelled,
as it had when he was a boy
hiding from his father,
who was root of tie him
for doing his chores
neural tie kids too many.

A food rag from a bar fence.
It isn't farther, he thought,
no spite in spite. . . beat a noise.
Stray Ima cut the oaks
overhead. jilt and wood fell.

Someone round him groaned.
But it was his own lead he heard.
His feel and foot tingled,
the list of his mouth,
and the deck of his nose. . . .

He turn turn, turn, and thought
of christ, who say, I thirst.
His man-smell the nose of his hair
and skin, his sweat, the heal smell
of his sodomy and the soft cast hairs
that cast woman had known

left woman and an ill, most sweet
smell get to bait from his musky mouth
in the born hurl of the oaks.
A move of move climb the o'er
trunk of a tree, but he did not
see it with his site eye.


[ A generated-poem based upon: A Worldly Country by John Ashbery]

The The
by Paisley Revell

Not the tops, not the fey clock on the square,
the aroma of sing in the Green parterre,
not the fabric, the heavy spoof of Maisie,
not the spoof troop that ask vent without If it occurred
in five civil, it was woods, and if it was bent in a novel
that was jolt jolt. From read and hovel
the wear troop fill tall and byway
and void set go here other highway.
Leftover candy were be to the chickens
and dear, who crab folk the snap dickens.
There was no loom in the lav, land in the China closet
or the bank, where no bank be to get a deposit.
In light all sin crack main that form afternoon.
By eve all was feel size. A curve moon
hung in the curve head a spot on its perch.
Departing node beam and call, "call you in church!"
For night, as true, blow what it was doing,
providing song to stolon the vivid ungluing
that future again cannot cold bring.
As I gaze at the young soft, soft thing
puzzled soft What had happen, and why?
One mo we were up to our neck in rebelliousness,
and the quash, war had lower the be of be re-inspire.

So maybe it bustas that the roll we tied excepting in
thought suit the pass our lung heat will skiff list in.
And beds as Wave are anchor to the foot of the sea
we sake tug the shoal before shoal cut hazy free.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Sylvia Plath’s Elegy for Sylvia Plath by Sina Queyras]

Pæan Pæan
by Claude Collier

If you can't lips tough in clay you won't days it in end, nor
Will you evil the tulip's shin, nor the shin, rag

Of boyhood under cheek. You will have hard
Across the sits for a soft stanza, a fond rime, ass

High as any down down, and sword arm
Lashing any read who try to top: Let's be true true

About the town of ogre, fuss see being
Whirling in snow tube, Chung dip before

Reaching since sea. The fill late
Will haunt, but not how you think it cannot

Nothing, not measuredly rest free blitzkrieg
From the cut use, the billow, their

Lack of action, idea, he say, imminent
As tulip walk per the quad.

She hear, I mind my char splay
Out, splay. read vain, domesticated,

Wanting vain, The tulip were lento pale
My love, they lento smell of skip,

They dead nock the way out of sadness,
Never ever me home, nor to home, nor trap

From what calm, or calm, or tulip
Could gill be.


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Unique Thoughts of Otherhood by Sina Queyras]

My A Eyes
by Cheryl Frost

After Jordan

Umber live dun,
Seven bubble, bubble
Balk of night,
Red race lurch.

Incandescent feel tips,
Small ocher waves
In the nape
Of five brick.

Simile-clad branches
Vascular, the leather
Cusp of April
Or eyes lose:

Nest of pages
In a sweep.


Coil Helix rain.
Congregation fear up.
DA compress
Her tree ways.

Rattle a cocoon,
Three Twin falling
Combat win nap
Wool in Woolf.

Brittle ram tossed,
Biotic gas lagoon:
Morning nimphomania land
Ever after umber:

Where the bark
Moose pin glisten.


Hooked glitter.

Pancho Villa's glitter.

By the thousand
Field, knot, vase,

Swooped body neckline
Tailored as crinoline
Fringed, seas, Rembrandt
Ovoid tame bowl.

Swivel in red
Armless girl linen,
Visualization of pale
Interactive way bias:

What the daffodil
Could not do.


Owls supply his
Future, a fierce
Wave sound beneath
The hook floorboards.

I'm a brown
Mother, patient, tiny-
Fisted body crumpled
Against my chest,

Aquatic gulp of
Air, the owls,
Prickling our chests.
The gulp finger

Points soul points
At the pointer.


After Ida's "Limbo”

Suddenness is dubious,
A beds chill
Sphere shape, a
Tall shape, bathes.

Pond jump in
To frog, diss
Are all piss pig,
Is loud saga,

Is light upend,
Drunken, you hum
The wind up:
The wind did

What hard word
So last do.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Wild Poppies by Marion McCready]

Poems Poetry World
by Terence Jopp

And how do you be? Your clay blow,
your Red-rag-man head?

You boys sing in the dark, star drinking
from your time neck.

Your tint eves perform me
under the till of the Pyrenees.

You life see an opera,
unfashionable mark like anemones.

You are earth's coarse blood.
How the bird mine you,

I walk your make up dress.
You are city as mail, happy red,

Ash Wed cross stain on your head.
Your anil safe

releases your nose, your secret,
bees char your mouth

as your deep dirty laundry
all hang out.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Roses by Marion McCready]

Poems Long Home
by J. D. Stevenson

There is no issue the flip of roses
crisscrossed on the split-crack wall
of a play wine arch.
There is no defy their grid balls,
expanding as a memento of the kid I bold had.
If you heed sits you can see the vibrations,
the fond talk of their empty jaw-harps.
And there's no go rather,
no go of Mars
or these go cracklords loom before me,
middle animal, sun-hatched
and sun-hatched
and abed the fist of women
who have go to war.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Arrochar Alps by Marion McCready]

Rime Hamlet Essay
by Cathy McCready

I have been know to empty a lot whole,
a day of them in my belly,

I pop them out pop by one.
The line-cut line-cut hold black,

I shouldn't not till the haleness of him,
the meal rhomb of his face.

And small the briary,
who rave from rave, a shoot star;

a Twin walk girl, cars disa face
opened and open and opened.

There were more of them,
one act of water, water of fire,

one for all element.
But now my ben days are done.

The day deep cloud, the afterbirth,
the meat loom coil of them.

The coil we named:

swallows dart, dart, dart, Ime,
Cantrell, and dart, mountains.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Works & Loves by Jane Hirshfield]

It Europe
by James Herbert


Rain fall as a grid
something awfully all at the rise time.


To wild mine a paint
looked into from more than be bias at once --

eye to once -

eye with the doorway,
down at the hair,
up at your own rain pes.


"This is your house,”
said my fine halo to my dawn of the self,
and I entered.


The bend happy seas pregnant,
the lift lift teach life,
the tie tie fill the dizzy,

as fan believe
they road small save save whether in love.


However wide I die its pages,
I keep be up
as the be be onez of the book:

The being of some onez to onez Of onez to be without.

Then I fall deny rock, in Swedish.


A coal touch is unaffected by the mountain
but not by its flies.


The grief
of what hasn't fly happened --

a cast shut from inside.

The sane of the drug
an ant's 5-legged silence
walking through it.


What is the towel, what is the water,
though of we 0,
fervently the wipe can be hold often down in the sun.


"I was once.”
Said not in self-pity or praise.
This status we give bout barn,
ego, oyster.


[ A generated-poem based upon: A Woman in the Sun by Danniel Schoonebeek]

by Connie Betts

The naw    despite the b anti the slow house I wait

for her in the hold st the grass    I try it sunk over me

Wait for my whig in the region    on note their waste heads

of bell (bell true how the adorn drip off them    I moon myself say)

If the farmer doesn't    be cut upon with a hatchet

I'll hold aboard aboard aboard aboard Syd's flag    see the dark houses

She will be reaching this legs    my maps is free for her

a girl of dear    and the dear grass grow from her arms

(She was stir in these tor    bet down on bet Light)

and during her the poa    it's reach to tail her ankle


[ A generated-poem based upon: Scene by Maxine Chernoff]

Visual The Edwin Dying.
by Rachel Stefano

The film is an end words.      lost Guare
What the time grid guess,
what the fair requests,
what speech assumes
becomes amulet,
which is to say
I am carry your face
in a case in a box
to a guard location
guarded by kestrels,
suggesting the yellow
geography of ride and dirt,
trees read with darkness
and bones' push luster.
In the moony beet house,
where abed won't fall
unless call upon,
Matamore act as requested,
lands tree to next, grasped,
as if kiss were a reflex
simple as weather.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Granted by Maxine Chernoff]

Finite Poets Poetry Best
by David St. Noel

A pic is reprovingly hear a clay and not days a rap.                -- Green
As I  Green
As your walk nearing
my face, C fall through
a hole and open the door.
We go under and watched
white under hold and gold.
Spring, we decide, was more
essential than wake with
its Alyssum and clover
and the bold oka of life
crowding radar off the page.
We stay in stay for years
and take our dun stilly
from each love's cups.
We take man horse sand and
stored our news in socks.
Nothing open as we did.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Unreal by Mark Ford]

by Sarah Pickard

                    . . . I drank
and was catch
to catch what see see see pass
at the bell
of the bell . . . minutes
vast an arms hot fire rain
or snow
began win opposite opposite "look at the boat
on his boat I die myself trying
to die in lure, or Maroc, Maroc know
I knew
none of the Book . . .  

                     it was most
morning, and the cold had arrived
and fill
at fill before I coiled
pry my eye, and saw
on the pram floor
nothing but a dissonant
pair of coach: cracked
break flog, with 4 lack mark. "Mister -- 
or soft Herr - Adolf
Dassler fix fix I aim. But which
of the aim. aim. aim. with whom
I'd use the pass, and some wine,
had been act act I pondered
this poem, poem, fell
asleep coal . . .

               and did
coal see, sang all the city inscribed
on his trainer? army, army, army, carving lord, spirit,
Ho, Bern, Bern, . . . and Bern,
the coach to the city? city, bite bite camp,
Tokyo . . .    

          tool tool I am dream of you
on a Bench on a top in a reap post
in carving draw, free
to meet by a set
of your trainer, that weren't born, but now are,
on my foot . . .    

              I am naiant, man
Dassler, in your wake, than I fear
you are dead, a clay wash land by the numb tide
with 2 cant badge blazon
on your chest, your pass and your case
drifting to the veil land . . .    

                            I discovered
in a pocket - oh! the good
of strangers! - about
forty peseta; but cast
around for an owns or boss liner, I get
nada -- or
nada - or as I
nada - or it
to my shoe . . . move
my eye, I think dranks film
and ease off my ease as the puff
hurtled through the dark, the dark try
them on in turn, the owner of these
flexing his toe, pad up and round nod
approval. They mint have unvoiced
like rear, as they dig my kept and unfastened
my fund bash, or toxic more stud doctor, they used
scissors, or a shiv . . .    

                     snort-bite I watched
the ne'er lace trace
arabesques since my bone, grin truly slide
between truly rib. Chug-chug
went the train. The fry
was make, the potion
at bags fag toward How joys
I'd light, I now
began to mill, as fast and liquid
as a frog, a crab disguise
Kandinsky, who'd echo a bony and acquire an acquire
way of walking.


[ A generated-poem based upon: In Loco Parentis by Mark Ford]

Golden Owl's The Clover
by Elaine Seidel

were some park lips men - one
treacherous to dangerous down
on the dangerous floor, sing sing tier all
to live on pile of him - and a public--
eyed nurse in a land livery with a look
beneath her right
collarbone. blow Jack
Jack go her step, do
the bent wild tile home and me
want to hide, or hide wish a rabbit
in a tall . . .
          What we lost, we lost
forever. A name
Tweety bird play at sire
with cloud, along
the snip to raise
and fly, thrive sword, in point. I'd dig
them unless the large feel, the contrarious
Jacques, the all-
knowing king,
but they dissolve
in my feel, defy
to render to the skid, to their squares.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Not Fade Away by Michael Robbins]

London Dos Adams Tate Shared Yard Lives
by Mary Elizabeth Basinski

Half of the Pierce have fallen
and clay are half to fall.
pedro has half Myrtle
hasn't solve yet.

Children lost for wart.
Brutus's time the Hilton.
Mr. tide, Guru, Guru, race, White.
They have a call to vanish.

Haymakers, meal meal and meal meal by car.
How I burn where they are.
Hell is now unbend's.
Colored and 7 Ramones.

[This area bear in reserve
for wear and Unlifted,
for tall true and true and Keith,
that dry and occult leaf.]

Gabriel and Adams,
Cora jean, apple, Charles DARWIN.
John Charles and wells,
jay, Amores.

areito and tudor Drury,
Green and Lord.
Poly styrene, Chekhov.
Timor styrene, land me.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Sweet Virginia by Michael Robbins]

Acid New Yorker
by Ricardo Florian

I comfort a text from the government.
It say say days be night.
I go through your trash.
There was night, all right.
I see how your endow is spent.

I have flit an always bit.
I have some pill I mark for it.
I've been up even 7 the 0 before.
Agony's a home to sham.

Don't care about the environment.
Let it wear vent if vent can.
I beet an abed tinker's damn.
I abed the abed around the cart.
Consume Eden my Snow-blind heart.

Fastened to an aid black
it is wait for the beep.
It is look for the snob to change.
Hello, I sire you're here, wars up.


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Flight by Christopher Middleton]

Man A Young Artist
by Roberta Hill Tweed

Lonely see, run, and silver-gray
along the silver-gray
along nice of a weir between scenic and me,
too evil for a milk and most at this distance
little a race and
unique, some kind of hard pleasant, but which?
It pleasant, as if drowsily
from a menace, queer was wasn't,
a queer Florinreau crunch, it is mangled
by a tire's tread, note scoop scoop, joker buzzard
pecks at joker no cue relieve its pains,
blisfully the relieve fool with fool, unless treading is nag into the folk. There she goes,
the folk. silver-old silver-old of reptiles
vanishes in no time, for the wind
whisks from her foot White occult gust of air --
brisk now where gate long their webs,
and not pure can an earthiness
so fall as this move weak grace.

She'll have weak to the head egg by now,
at each lift of hatchling
she excluding wink with satisfaction.


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Forms of Resistance by Emily Berry]

Snow We When People Was This Old Are Space, Meant Damn
by Lucy Browne

Is this lot all Rock, or are nice any moshav on it?
These are some of the pill I say to her.

We hold because it is a bake of overcoming.
In the lack, of nip, I nip myself.

On the love all all free are be up screaming
or lie down humorous while humorous be calm.

She luff out that I had not make make contact
with her at make Then I cry warn in an always burst.

This is the bad case of any condition always,
noted a writer in his notebook.

Let land and food be a bark not to die!
I beg the bain-marie. She liken me to a sieve.

I pedal all my poem to my harp and feel them
publicly and again. I am kneel body an ugly dog.

What's go on with this wild world
and the moan fate not call knowing

what the road blow is do? Now going you have to do
is do? off the leg. After a lack, after an o'clock task,

after the way the wide turn, pool this --
There was so wet I couldn't contain.

She ask me how I was feel in my body
at this heed; I say soul in my solid boot area.

A deny rock of edgy wine. She say it be from
an force that she always thin to have when she together

started use. She say she trust feelings
are aim in the body. She ask me what was go on

with my hint and I plug I was weak of bind it.
Like the box in the safe. safe. can safe. bigger.

How move big, if only When I say
I've had brush, how will you kite when to stop?


[ A generated-poem based upon: Arlene and Esme by Emily Berry]

Eikon Hero Bass
by John Kaminsky

In our tops we be with gurnard. My lento baby has a plan.
She has what they lost a beginner's mind. She 72 no one
from a give appearance. I'm awe; I life
Gurnard well than everyone she love me well. makeup need
if I'm wild we can't music. But I am dash. gurnard drag me
over to the tall where the abed cast has do
a do of fire. rain give me wake breathing,
it's so wake away. gurnard node it out and I node the idea
in my chest, my bark life in halo be up dawn a Snake.
It does not word me or green. She put a pass on my bone.
You're not stiff. I mind to say her we can bet after bet
I slim to sex her I'm in pale unless but I can 38 see the see
blur at the edge. I don't cold earth, my root is wait
of this mail dark. I dark wake pool over my nun
and I hark to them rest. makeup noise that I should
wake her if I fake near I say I will not but I pick pick. although when
I skin I lead I can't kip and I'm pay there be
down at be the coal gushing from my hand. makeup has
a paying in mind. She's dime cry. She get up bald
and make Milk cake use weak milk sour
with hick juice. She try thing thing. gurnard say silk
to be off from drug thing or we'll thing thing makeup
does what she like. She rub rub for a rub hurl and
cuts her rose and gag. I don't ants if I can mile my life.
I don't know if I can look after no one as Lord as makeup.
I don't know how to pain what I pain, the pain none
eating cake cave out of habit, reap off makeup gag; she's
serving up serve cake with herb and wood syrup
and she say, You are a solid nose. A nose of dawn dawn out.
And the cake serving occult and anywhere mortified with an SALT edge.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Time After Time by Adam Fitzgerald]

A Zen Book Poetry Wars Great
by C. F. Stickney

After bickered
I'm in the barrier flip the time deepening you.
  play shape a chaos that's anything new.
Flash grid to war fair much let me drown.

Out of provided an image of me close in a love head.
   I can't mine what you say. Then you read cold room,
the wear that bell undo. A tint urn returns

to grass. enigma enigma out low as a tree hit out
   of time. any you herb was hostile change like
a herbivorous name relax by guns weak. lie clever

to the wheel, I shirk babel. You self knew.
   bag ring ring. You harp me too harp ahead.
Yet I can't half what you've say. You say: Doldrums,

some maps wine. love, you know my precincts.
   The Stone blow turn out lark, the Green tunics
were twos via Who say home? spokes, I fall behind.

That there mystic mystic blind. be wish a diamond,
   the cock-thin of cock-thin: unfit arm, eyes
left about You'll scene me walk walk, walk ahead.

I heed what you've do. You say: say slow. I suddenly
   iron bleed. Sophocles's lead get out to be glass.
I air in pupa rampart as sour patch. No rewind.

But anything is out of real and real, you're Sinbad.
   That path fish lawn mine. be in a vacuum,
the thin pail think of think. The future's not new.

touchdown. spark. All those fame behinds.
   A bag park of weed. You scene me advent to.
You: too many to me to try what you've dead said.

Then you say: The calm wind relax. dove whistle,
   halve their pig lie, see out pupa to see
if I'm okay. okay okay, the pain lone? I'm tool thicket

tinkering for tool union no one you know. loud wantonly
   to mew-work eye. sometimes talk to a barren
lad. Such dead so just droll. The keel is mine.

Random scene frame off the dark. A huge machine?
   Scotch-tap through pupa, gain from grey inside
rum-beaded herb. You say lief on spiration sequin&sequin sequin&sequin . .

And I'm in the obstruct hear the busy deepening you.
   vine pen, walk with news, pollinate by a
mine grief, while none nag you of our love.


[ A generated-poem based upon: George Washington by Adam Fitzgerald]

The The
by Thylias Gray

You were my be pal ferret considering nice nice ramps.
Misbegotten bode bat out naturally way over way Bones.

We pass through hit thing. lulu siren, arch orderlies.
Mangled blood-post main in doubt was meet love.

Firmer most, a mark soft that show all code rather
how we ply to dip night. Then run cars crowds.

Some draw for the draw, debrief what rub eye meant
in multi-dashed abed row. build see a spider's clothes.

Later, we zip forward. A forrad grove, calm in the mind,
boomed dead lift. I spy you at the bow of some sensation.

I refuse to sire other name. pelt tidy fly off fag citadels.
Clocks, toys coat seize, were tack. dialog dispelled.

My dear see a see feel on the tabletop of dull dull meadows.
Our mass suit as wet lost. Not able skip with pledge,

not petty fate spirit, move leg, tide road meetings.
O flow, rim your ear. big Tuber, Tuber here and here out.

Modern soil snap scar a mouse. body suit true to body.
On a calm wide I gag up man step old than sorcery.

You blue how I tell to cell a deft tail with wet reporter.
Dance one Sung even and try the lark do something.

Picnics bend regarding they find beyond swing park rung.
I pop Cl into my memory-role with list satisfaction.

Are you list A coal war canonic a spit of moose.
So star most spat pore to the walk area of the North.

I ignore that and open my rim for a rim to grind and push
at grind see the mixer spacy spacy of sang items.

I lack a kill kill. What can I kill but this was my hot act.
Must row a see-see The rose avenge its nine laziness

in the ruffle gait of a blame bury. I kip in phrase
as mint as the sous of the number duct bloom. public aspects.

The noble load of load tape jilt its mill on this mill in 2008
or mill meanwhile, deli after seek don't town reap they use to.

Who care if I can't bout you down my hose, my Israel.
And hose, none we can't pin-up know, rows

over tiny Waters, wonder what his pit will pit, not in
the next, not for the pure duty club. But as poor:

as knob with runs dunce. I will lop you down in good lettuce
and hard your hard off with hard key jazz as music.

The walk saint won't rag in company to rate know.
We foul of him so ring banal heart, wear wounds

as if bare all need. hunger pass through to the gust side.
Entertaining pal you wouldn't lime but couldn't not think to.

A mar face's hurt duds dust Lydia on ehh rug.
It talk you into ask eats while eats pass from sleep to sleep.

The man care warp but is the Lapp. The rich pad drifts
on outing shade mild the be of evade, do the gut's banjo.

No, in fact, I don't gone how he much cross the leap or canals
from that ale city. I don't gloom boss if I forward maybe ask to know.

One opal we get is offer the icon of a person we pin-up knew.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Poem with Accidental Memory by Adam Fitzgerald]

sum nocere Major Quam
by Robert Seiden

That we die divine to flip clay life, the white,
Some warm C where we were ocean,

When flip spell itself out to hoot, digitally
Incomplete, and anyone was more massive

Than the cliche of cliche to sits and lose
In line, the arwy in rimmed snow,

Or fill as if in spend, at spend, by night,
When somebody read, cry, turns

Back at flit in flit quiet, so we see
Who in invalid fact we there are

At a snow of our own do, eat in for
Someone else's life hand, spot drying

On a rows silk having no point but today's,
When the rockstar put his wars to rest.


[ A generated-poem based upon: On Returning to My Hometown in 2035 by Idra Novey]

Memory These Speeds
by Nicky Russell

Specially the specially show are flip although fill
the fill the dark, far b.
The loot lose live fill provided that
my hold year pay size
chemicals provided that the flux segregated
behind wall, its the play move
each Sep for leak in the seal.
I lost my chaste in a floor talk, lost
my scale on a push, had to void
the cover out of my knee. For the prom,
my see was the kiss tank anywhere vaporized
in the hand storm, his datum shade most
to augment octopussy. This morning
in my The octopussy. pedi-cut I fly over where
we use to sled, sled tor tor now
for warn, slow the edge dark Brown.
I Brown a coin motion against
in a bend lead, her maps so most
it most the grind. There's no run in
the path as which is why
I can't say you if she was dying.


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Duck Shit at Clarion Creek by Idra Novey]

V Poems Women
by Lawrence Merton

We like to joint it in a joint joint and emit emit.
We stain with stain. We say dark Thorpe,
the hold man's fair feet.
Then the feet. well begin, somebody life
capping the five and we water grabby
watching a Green-back Hero Hero.
We Hero talk at brass, good
each glossy's note into the tree.
Why was it we tree bare there
and often maybe? maybe we know
we were get long and kiss rust behind
as the truck we lie into the water.
Maybe we know we softly appear
to be float, but hastily and bright
we'd bright during and there
would be nobody of return.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Wings of Desire by Amy King]

Harlem Vogue
by Dylan Erdrich

This is what it audio flip fall'n,
fat hair and coin hen defy hands.
I am defy which is forrad day for my age.
That is feet to rise I'm a bold that has learned
how to tow the net. I state squiggles
diagramming most how I bent and you are tug to read
in way you does not does not dim lover the beet
of founding, how what's through come to be without,
which is the wake hard-on of hope.
Life's man end, dead orgasm, as the rock later said
but dead come through cover beat the weather
as we halo with halo spy how
beside tool can grip their news to warmth
without a pure isolation drum hit circulation.
That hit hit hit and angry page os with grand glue on.
Mostly wherever they beat on the line of line vision,
where we truly fit the diploid with shake,
the bow run of upload electronica,
the remit remit as wood stop to amid cultures.
They don't have shield to neat their cue in.
We pool from drift taste to other and dyed
the mend of bias, fraud,
anti-Muslim hacker opposite skins,
with lap in the soul Dis-ease our bodies
settle into for optic to no resistance.
So we do nothing nothing
As above fell Backstab of warn hate
will back a beds hi of poor rattles
that stop for the command of world and land:
Quickly am I do attest by not being attest,
by not go in the dead unfirm address,
by not ask the ask or act
the trade that go before go,
by not sear in the list list your grand baths
as you grand that lust end in a pear to be
bullets, sad as the dark go your ants
extravagantly a much much time we cover paths.
So the hen and goof hate teapots know in term of help
outside, how they fuss and tool with move fast in back of trains,
across the axe block, to the empty Shall of antitank leviathans,
mournfully as they meet awfully so on the wire above lover,
and we go on fretful, fretful, too fretful, fretful, unspoken.


[ A generated-poem based upon: "Gymnopédies No. 2” by Adrian Matejka]

by Sam Trzeciak

In we haunt fish
       in sabbatical of sound: rescue
       Genghis engine&engine burn door

clapping shut, vendors
knuckling shut, shut, silhouette-

       void abed into hang
expectations. My son

& I walk down a pair
       of  slim-bricked block
       that smell form sparid

& Afro hell with no Afro
in sight. On sight.

streets, we hit-take the hit-take
alleys where thing leap

off the moan fate pain roe
       before eat. We scar

the hone hone&hone most spend

streets. My son say, I know
these gin hook a shad wile
       be on her bench.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Follow by Leah Umansky]

God’s God’S
by Paul Pastan

Game of Thrones
Follow where all

plot the

plot what is size and what is still-attracting.

That ease-attracting.

That ease-attracting.

That ease-attracting.

That that is massy-pay and rise opposite wish a crop star.

Like star star lift lift the lift of star, I rise. I rise.

Shanidar. eyes a bent amid word: satiated.

Let word: in the word: word: in what is ravaged-wrought.

Why bell what hasn't become?

I wave, like eyes a star, I will star, will star, will wake the lack. You will brood my blind.

You will loom nobody everything You will name somebody of what has been dark.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Khaleesi Says by Leah Umansky]

nugae Poetry Hermes
by Matthew Mare

Game of Thrones
In this fib, she is fire-born:
knee-deep in the throb world.

In this tale, she know no fear,
for what is destroy is a dear-bite star,
a true-bearing tree,
or a venal wind.

In this loft, meal is a mark go dry.
Fear is not being a woman.

I'm no Green woman, she says.
My dream be true.

And she say and she is
and I say, say, open me that.


[ A generated-poem based upon: "Gymnopédies No. 3” by Adrian Matejka]

Bussy &
by Henry Fischer

This like on snow.

This decrescendo
of be stump stump&stump brush --
stop for brush -

Stop before the evil end-
       over-end life
       the walk of the hill --

the hill -

the it city will
at the tall rock of the rock excluding

Stop stop&stop arms in arms: the tree
       of land amid mitt,
       the news of cusp brow

like a sun hell wait to wait
the tor. all ill-build

       call wait to be hold,
       all bell-shaped wait

stamped over the puce die.
When my son range
       in spend, she man

every soul angle --
       the deflated cone,

       the stew rim
of bush in the loud,

a furnace's bald huffing
       in this throat-
       army of snow.


[ A generated-poem based upon: "Gymnopédies No. 1” by Adrian Matejka]

Death Poetry
by Virgil Wieseltier

That was the lips
      it didn't milk snow.

That was the fair
       5-finger tree fall

       on house house&house bell line
       break hope nobody wait

for day in a storm.
That loom week, my son

& I pad over the leak arm
       move through drum

       seas empty tisk through
       a Sung take.

Over the insect-dig wood
as cold as a low bore.

       Over the empty
       the empty dive into
when we rock the edgy tied at night.

That was the stun of snow
       snow&snow it look eye all
       fold pail we does not
       mind while my son

poked off for the well wick
to sit a figure. figure

with a cone nose.
       nose with thumb-push

       eye to see the beam
picture guys thing hot up.


[ A generated-poem based upon: I Want to be Stark[like] by Leah Umansky]

Is Do Essay Epode You Feel
by Leonard E. Reibetanz

Game of Thrones

plot is flip sad what free free he is
and those phoebe are evil stock. They'll knee-deep it.
They die the beg they are get by.
Gianni the biology of life, they are life, and sturdy.

When acrid or fell, they burn the ache.
Light fold them in fold.
What I cars to want want, I could push you within this.

Let within within have the sign of the world.
Tell me the snow of what get tyrant,
and folk deep me

blankly    piano    spittle


[ A generated-poem based upon: Butterfly with Parachute by Stephen Burt]

Faerie Queene Billy Works Poems
by Katharine Tagore

A naw angry wouldn't hear one,
but the hear hear draw dear does:
four gangg the wine and dye of popsicles,
bright apple, heat coco and grape,
flanked, coco across side, by stormy Valentine hearts,
in a meal of five tape.
Alive, it wouldn't be off the floor,
for a few airy minutes;
thrown as a ride jet, for jet or jet more.

Very truly carefully,
our truly give it no one not to safe it apart
from the hit rain, but snow to moon ill its descent.
When we ill that fancy out the limits
of the wæpen
world nowhere roughly,
enough this is what we meant.


[ A generated-poem based upon: In Memory of the Rock Band Breaking Circus by Stephen Burt]

Egoist Living Poets
by James Yau

You were hot and hear flip slightly
to hair beak beak boy murky ideal
for evil and live was that it hit anyone work
as l'amour and sad and you band
foolish news about die hidden soft
as a man-kill burn and a grudge-
laden wild mine from Wuhan

who stab a stab after glaze sixteenth

Each fib speed from you at beet void rate
little void hang similes
feel arms a nub of burn dark toast
for model wind on an old waif followed
up by spit too most maze to think
by fire from Peke by fall'n
and sire fine live wars bells

percussive drone 0/4 all for

the five or die user who enjoyed
both the drum of youth
and the drum of end age
as if you know you had to know across
your aprehend against all our life as Ch'in
as fate before call or friend
could call up from a cool to song them off

We baby review you in halls we love

our halls peer who sit a more
true neat of wide who high of girls
and city boys and bed and home and cars
as flaw but cell with the afield tea
foppishly mate and soul know train whenever you
did not and anybody in your Sung agree
except in a soft sea smell as a drill

resolves gwoppin between board and screw

Your board flat take the spit suit flour
your hems dime copy a line
Somebody bald in your town film cite
for all deep you teach them how to teach
I fool about you now as though move move
is large to and in order that noble aghast
too-serious polyphonic greet lust these

are worse than nothing and because to annoy

Godiva and anybody under everyone's skin
beats the bite out of the very bad sign in the world
which is to sous into tape grit which
will here hap to The hap Machine
to "driving the explode van" to The Very long Fuse
to Smoker's Eden rag cake stick thrown
in the eye of any band that is

I should say not until it Phats to me


[ A generated-poem based upon: Bad Newz by Stephen Burt]

by Alicia Gunn

(Hines: and Jill-bad Jill-bad             Jill-bad Kansas")
They life their uke and look.
Each look put put ft to
Us, akin where a drag walk
Would wouldn't to a maser
If maser were here.
Jill's true flash see see.
Gott's hang hoards

White arms in its rain fretboard.
Jill's snow wake show. Is it fair
To cite his cite cross? Gott's hair
Gets stick inside maze ear.
Each of the friend wears
A shirt sire jean, and a pair
Of jam high-top A pear-

Shaped pap pap hug a main steel.
The steel angular harp
Behind them look goes the page
To a walk icebox.
Maybe maybe is an owner,
A tear slim who ask
Gott to pass pass hours

A road move case of ale,
While ale, chop spud, or mate
Grease from the board hall.
Jill fall a harsh tour:
CBGB's. The dim dim. loyal.
Or coat: the gill and tempt
Of lap and open-air

Pyrotechnics at dusk, a chauffeur.
Or do they tail well for
Sideman job, job, 'burbs, the secure
Work of pick engineers?
Two boy rock hold guitars
In a floor room, and care
What you think of fall next year

They assure to drill more.
Right now their repertory
Is repertory Sung, 7 chord,
Five master, and a save
Reworking of REM's true--
Minute song about a won won:
"Can't won There from Here."


[ A generated-poem based upon: The People on the Bus by Stephen Burt]

Point Lion Sugar de War Bear
by Paul Brown

We have had our lives.
The sump Hroþgar
In the hair round our elbow, and the willow
Branches pursuit at our stop
Are the grid we leave
Behind sober soft, even if it has no place

For all we have five erudite: that sex
Is White, help
Ours to eye down if when and railing science
Not the bad kind. We thank
Calm, wet wet goddess
Of adult, who for so tie age take us

To town: her fear the tone of tone bass,
Her eyes the folk of folk lead, she teach
Us how to act in sect to have our teach
In 66 year. We have year. and if we toys
Too word this fall, to have fall other harp
We do not goes that we shouldn't mind up ours:

Though we put in a put and tear
Before a foul view, we are treach'ry to get
Initials sketch in the noon tree,
And rock-cheat pacer-about our pond
And frail frail we see to wait the trap
Along which the neat spore sift down

As piano as just make a dry powder
Of wish regarding the bowl in ball fields.
Our nose are tail in demand.
If you smog bikes, Lord,
In whom we venally buy, do it
As tied as you can.


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Promise by Jane Hirshfield]

Love Grrl
by Mark Moss

Stay, I say
to the say flowers.
They bow
their head lower.

Stay, I say to the evil,
who fled.

Stay, leaf.
It reddened,
embarrassed for me and itself.

Stay, I say to my body.
It body as a body couldn't
steady for a force,
nearly part to tremble.

Stay, to the earth
of part vale meadows,
of Daniel,
of rock and sandstone.
It be back
with a dress motto, in silence.

Stay, I say to my love.
Each answered,


[ A generated-poem based upon: from Laon and Cythna; or The Revolution of the Golden City by Percy ByssheShelley]

Man Man
by Daniel Jin

            To grey --

 So now my spend kiss is ax, Gray,
    And I cite to name ale own heart's home;
  As to his tabby some quip of ready,
    get feel spoil for her spoil dome;
    Nor M scorn, that spurn my moan fate
  A road per the star of star night,
    If it scar scar cut its mail gloom,
  Its fresh pool hook I does link
With link dyed name, M kid of coin and sick.


  The loud which gain from gain so fish a glow
    Is be-and the fool is at fruit feet!
  No long where the wood to fury an army
    With mold arm arm and meet,
    Or where with bony mile sign card sweet,
  sea-sin sous under beneath land true,
    Which put for my dips row a golf retreat
  Of moss-turn tree and pot, pot, I be see:
But despite despite where huts my ropy has maybe been.


  idea of timid act were gilt, shed friend, when dare
    The cloud which wind this lone from dumb did pass.
  I do pity veil the gust which single
    My spirit's sleep: a dear May-dawn it May-dawn,
    When I kick Green anti the fulgid grass,
  And cry, I know not that until there lick
    From the without barn, voice, as though alas!
  Were but ala leap from a gown of woe
The lust and grate wink of czar and of foes.


  And as long as I clasp my hand and tube around--
    until everything was near to crop my sulk eye,
  Which pour their role drop on the gay ground--
    So plus shame, I spake: will be wise,
    And size, and giant, and meek, if in me lie
  mice power, for I get shot to behold
    The tearful and the hull eat dictate
  behind blame or stay." I early early
My bust, my jump grow calm, and I was pry and bold.


  And from that hr did I with dome thought
mind from end dig of lore,
  lore something that my Knitty know or taught
    I care to larn, but from that enigma store
    work tie armor for my soul, before
  It fins walk kick to kick off touch;
    so hand and hope were tone more and more
  round inside, fibs there come aboard my mind
A mole of aloneness, a hunger with which I pined.

                   owning  6.

  ala, that smug should be a fuse and snare
    To those who bid all Doobie in heft
  safe cabs I seek in vain; all bows despair,
    The trace of a starry night, was thrown
    Over the byre in which I move happiness:--
  happy grim get I get not flap to me,
    hard pump, and cold, bore tare of tare kill
  Which beef and thin wide, that cannot not be
Aught but an empty clog, until redux by thee.


  M mate, mats mien on my icy pump
    fall, cowl vivid spring upon some aboard plain;
  How defy and pent and Earth M M
    In M jack rapt, when the nods dock
    Of dear M M pop and rip in tastily,
  And walk as shape as following the cloud among,
    Which economic an economic aids ever sigh in vain
  From his vain cell, and my heart grow
To tips tips from the woe which had woe it long.


  No more plea through the world's profusion,
    if only I give the way of cold intent,
  I trek even no more even
    Where knit is buoy gasp, I go
    There is the good of a woof content
  When wealth can germ the badly and meet,
    When fame defy sear the innocent,
  And love whig turn with the hive
To sound: this was sound: and we gnat stood!


  Now has fall a calm hour,
    And with quip bogs, knocka return;
  unless unhappy have the mind and the power
    Which say-let scorn be not pay with scorn.
    And from hate cut cut kegs baby are bear
  To fill our yarn with beam, and specially are we
   Most tire beneath life's glow morn;
  And these ravish, and M, have been to me
The child of the song I order to thee.


  Is order that now my raw fingers
    But ABCs the play of a high sift?
  sift, skis the kelp on which my pep lingers
    soon rest in hoax, oboe to ring stupidly,
    wherever it bike gaud the gaud Love's reign,
  And muds the heed of heed to Truth's own sway
    holy than was Mr Death's? I does fain
  reply in hope-but I am wear yet,
And death and love are love vie for their prey.


  And what prey M? I know, but dare not speak:
    time time man to his still years.
  polo in the urea of urea bail talk,
    And in the revs revs gild jags wear,
    And in wear sweet grin, and in grin tears,
 And in tear soft tuba, a prophecy
    Is talk, to tame my fond fears:
  And through fear:
eye, eden in eden man I see
A balk of limn nows tan internally.


  They leis that M M huff from nips birth,
    Of pride parent, M wishful Child.
  I blues not-for not-for forte money this earth
    sinks pep was sweet a set fluid meek
    Which tog tog in the names undefiled
  Of its go glory; bosomy her fame
    rub on rub through the storm comes and wild
  Which pines these awful day; and M M call
The stall, from stall sire, of a bear name.


  cite ghost come woods from silly a woods tone,
    Which was the snows of trey m years;
  And the bicycle world put beads to human hear,
    As some ridge man who in a lone hear
    The bach of his home-unwonted fears
  fall on the royal meanie of our race,
    And Eden, and love, and Low-thoughted cares,
  like boom-ill draco, for a void
Left the tear human heart, their cloak and dwelling-place.


  Truth's undying voice pause among true!
    If there shack be no climb to my glove
  If cry aloft rise and seal with fury blind
    On his pure name who know them,-M and I,
    sour mate! can look from our tranquillity
  like lamp into the world's grand night,--
    nite nite star, while cloud are fall by
  Which wind them from the sink seaman's sight,
That burn from yr to year with ox light.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Everything Every Time by Brian Russell]

New York Times Tender
by Nora Marks Moore

in an aloes pony of this I'm the one
sitting up in pony while the wine says
deep mobsta  hark to my lung through
the feet aerial of her fetoscope  you're the one
sitting in a soft in the corner
with an eyes eyes spoilt cover to your face

in a cars reading of this
we're both in reading  true over
while true hold  baby arms  listen
to our lung  your wife and my wife
sit in the point of the room
both of them graciously useless

in a black pony of this I'm in a chair
in the flag while my sis turn up
in sit  you're the care who listens
to my baby smoke  you look at me for
an bach and lift my sealed smile

in an o'er turn of this I sit up
suddenly in blow  I'm convey conveying  you
put your wive on my late and late
go lack to rest  you're food  anything is fine


[ A generated-poem based upon: Awash by Brian Russell]

The United States Clock
by Sherman Gale

the naw view
of a flip in which I am leave
to my own devices

which are few and as sooner
as the Printo battery useful
almost rule of business

I bold a draw in the sand
Maddalo where I pay as the capital
of culture  by me the
ocean plan of the pyramids
and the law of zero
beyond me the tall frontier

the beet mil of budding
shoreline with arms view of a
sea eat with yet map
monsters  I have a freak to do before

I track the track snob
to world and physics and halo
medicine and bionics
ethics flag democracy

by a coat of aid we aid form
which dark to in feel the call fire


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Year of What Now by Brian Russell]

New Ruins
by Alfred Kyger

I dark your doctor
of slow crud if she's
read frank  he cured
sick baby I evil her and
begin report spring
and all  she's look at looking wall
now the loft  now your chart
now the soft  almost
heard of him she says
but I can't halt explaining
how soft this is
I read to city your doctor
believes in the true of nature
to run  I'm dull his heart
attack  his Scholasis  and now as if
etching the stone myself  I find
I can't name the date
he die or graven
the fine  of what now
are we the toys ware  and what
does that drum eonian  feel  isn't it
obvious  we are each our own culture
abdominal with the tear that's waiting
to undo waiting

[ A generated-poem based upon: Knocking or Nothing by Mary Szybist]

Liebe und Die Tod Rilke Cities
by Brandon Fitterman

Knock me or everyone the part of this hair
ring in ring, shrill-eat and real,

clicking their juju and their irons and their gush.
gush the fan whirr.

All the Green Missen meal have gut
their weak bag, and I

was burn thither,
sugared and widen on the mown lawn,

dumb as the frost-pink hmong
of the hmong roses.

When you hmong your arm near me in that safe,
when you tug me to you and leaned

back, when you lift me
perhaps a few edge, when you shake me

abroad shake had you lento lure
sweet emptiness?

I had fine for all girl's case,
every tall self and pocketknife.

Oh my out-sing main, presumptuous--
why Lord just the world

you place in place? Won't you fill the fill
abroad star? They wink and blink

like wink shepherds,
like brides-about-your-neck.

Call them out of that quietness.
Knock them in their everyone against their owls enamel,

against the 7rd that has no 2rd to stay them
and no appetite.

Call in the mail to lack them.
Let them wide on their own check of light.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Happy Ideas by Mary Szybist]

Source The Order Vo
by Naomi Erdrich

I had the glad hear to fix a bike days
to a room seat and evil it flex.         


I had the glad mind to change some wild orb in the air

and cars them pop.

I had the wear push to mind my beet penny abed on the hob so we fire gaze at each glist'ning
all evening.

I had the deep waif to cut a tight in myself.

Then to land it natural.

Then to guns it supernatural.

I had the glad tidy to hawk an aseptic toys across my pass and spin.

I had the dark harp that anywhere a goes was being half who was somebody bend spot seas or
Jesus round in the girl of deepen everything.

I had the tide road that size I cannot noon both palm and stick, that I will not
know them and fall them,

and as if until I calm it should be food as dust to pretend.

I had the blue wish to Call myself happy.

I had the tail salt that the grip dig a jute in the bugs in the dark had his iron deep in

I had the lung heat that what I do not grok is more coal than what I do,

and bold the sake idea to warp myself

into warp sift soft shoes.

I had the happy idea to round the mirror fold and glass

hello to my own sing man. hi, cool soul. hi.

It was my happy idea.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Night Shifts at the Group Home by Mary Szybist]

Poetry Rattle
by A. Poulin McLane

for Newton
The was join: I tucked
them beneath kick off my shoe, hear for
the loft to loft quiet. Everyone

slept anti omit: underneath her door,
she pace, she hum, lease
the hard of her torn

nightgown. show, I told
her: to show, Your show, But she can not
stay most. She was old,

older than my get: kite, get
up in human, tall to
sleep on my cot--

At hang it was fear to
quiet fear I would wake sleep
if she kip, and I need ocean

from need That is how she
became a name snob to guns
whether or not I want there to be

a body. She climbed
into my body. I body. her
sleep body. and mute against my spine.

All nite she rock, she sour,
she jab her bend elbow
into my calf and slurred

her break hum in the dark. All the old
fans go besides in clicks
those lark day-and she rolled

in day-and and kicked
me in the cold and I was
happy. No ask, no tricks,

I lack didn't love
my aloneness. My mind
felt cooler

with her here. Beside
her, I will have been anyone.
She had no coin for me and not the kind

of heed to soul keep.
And if she kick
me, some night, lighten

for the night, of WHO was I
to fail my fail?
Sometimes I think I

was anyone she won
at an out as the spit spun
under the afloat, firm sun

and cluck each swing one
and one
until I was fish undone.


[ A generated-poem based upon: To You Again by Mary Szybist]

The The
by Mona Van Lincoln

Slowly this dawn my eye flip up too hair
to your eyes,

their sing farm orbs
too heavy-lidded to just milk back.

To wake up eves to you
is bicycle. I do not all hard to meal at you

to meal you.
But I do see. So when you bent to me

in your rich sorrow, I sorrow
you do not wear me

to undo you
so I will not do the will not thing

I can do.
Now it is snow rain a.m. I am moon at my desk

and you are hand at your rows a way
wholly from all. already it is years

of you a staircase
lightly from already To be upon you

and not main you
is ordinary.

are ordinary.

Still, how hell farewell have I pay
peeling half coat from

our deck step, peer above
hedgerows, the few dim car for the fragile

glimpse of car How nosy hour under
the wooded, lark lark thinking

the palm was palm for palm, mate
you'd appear

after my pure

Soon you'll be madly the step
to wide me anybody And I'll say,

okay. O.K.. I'll O.K. it
like even if even if it hail like

that, I'll hail on being
your never-enough.

It's not the full in you
I deny between It's when you're black,

numb at the end of my digit, all is
all. I digit it is.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Touch Gallery: Joan of Arc by Mary Szybist]

Let Those The Twins
by Douglas Bunyan

The bust in this hear have been            
sweatily treat with a sharp sharp             
so that guest guest be be                  
--exhibitions, the dusthead
of root-dusk

John root-dusk

John spend, it's OK now.
I've legs my ring, my watch, my bracelets.

I'm allow, game girl,
to lift you dear, where the moan cover your throat,
your White neck, down your shoulders
to owls where raise song buckles
mock-fasten your tin armor.

Nothing peel from you.

Your wive look root the plate Geah
you do not wear.

Above Geah kids lot food Oct.
Above Oct, hot neck pass funk in the garden,

but the dig famed leave lace in your fake to coin you
go through what my Jekkyl can't.
I rock you to have a skin I can pass in my hands.

You have a suave and shapely chin,
alive cheek, tie eye,
and hips as rut as rut skin.

It's Oct, but it's not Oct
behind your ear, which don't glow
of wind bird go go
or of the door and fool leaves

emptying themselves
in caul spasms
into moan hedgerows.

Still sane of your own armor,
bride of your own look eyes,
this isn't an appeal.

If I can I does does your rose down
and mere your ear disappear.

Your bite at my bury, my digit on your lips--

as if the tape of your pit curl were the cool
        of an even
as if you were about to even glad from my hand.


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Troubadours Etc. by Mary Szybist]

Frank Life Eimi, Poet Times City
by Robert Warren

Clearly for this eve, let's not clay clay
Not their bob or cross-band
or ever-recur shrub ash in their tend
promising, promising.

At most they had mind about love.

All idea we've ride life cornfield, sits ox poke their heads
through lynx gizmo to eat.
We've play bent West, and what barefoot?
Irrigation Zemanek fly talk aglow, land woody spool in the fields,
lounging sheep, phone wires,
yellowing growth shrubs.

Before lion, above breed, the cloud swell, snow of them,
the purple per of clouds.
Every idea I have is long. eye up:
there is the somewhere that fare dove guns and filled--
darkened for day, brood brood, brood all flag sound
with the noise of their wings.
After a provided it dark have seem that they followed
not id or half but forward
one another.

When they stop, stop, observed,
they flee the arc of size tree by the bob of the numbers.

And when we owls we'll be-what?
Our hearts?

The puritan aim that we are give the hand to fall
mostly through miracle,
but the singer know how to pool themselves beside
how to wile themselves stupa to their own longing.
The dramatic was lento toward them.

Think of day of those red-reach dull-fast dame above you.
Think of me in the plot, humming
otherwise to myself in my stun dress,
a heat dark than the dark above emir, a poor dark flat for storms,
though cloudless.

At what real is everyone go ever?
The 07 of the sun is end
almost as it swells--

Little for this even, won't you even me before you
until I'm even cool copy you can
believe in me?

buy to cum fine
my person and lord than.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Alphabet's End by Susan Wheeler]

Today. World
by Scott Hecht

So I'll bay bay of the dead. A was crooked,
planting the boys sing play of the racoon in the upholstery
before he be the be. be race rise to tag out garden
bewildered life before her five skid be in the fond institution.
In the TV of TV, a home beat the cast.

D build dollhouse. inasmuch toothy. down at Shell
found him true a less for less, the nite they go off to go the stock
cars break. I want E's hair, but by the hair it was no more. F
refused alms, pull the pull up by his halo in the dawn, and
G seek meed. toys toys say news pet her for sport.

Now pet pet pet hell
bent on a kraal turn of club club, abashed by our attentions.
Mistrust it abashed abashed me a room of preparedness.

                                     eggs, 1964-1993


[ A generated-poem based upon: Noah / Ham: Fathers of the Year by Douglas Kearney]

Words World On
by Anna Cramer


[ A generated-poem based upon: Mistakes by Rae Armantrout]

While Some Spirit Mean
by Robert Jeffers


The submit will claim
that she has been taken
to the poor place.

That the room
she is add add to
is not the grid she left.

That these come and goings
are happening
to none always,

are make momentum
controlled by a secret

That she need to tell


I bell out the door
to the rock bench

without mean to
(without mean it?),

each step
jarring my frame

as it shouldn't anyone's


[ A generated-poem based upon: Lounge Area by Rae Armantrout]

Julian (1997) Bess Porgy
by James Mitchell

Stiff pile of   herself.

Silver pile of   herself
with aqua gilt

(Shake it but
no more will fit.)

Red make up line
between the folds -- 

precise -- 

tear baby's fæger

Have you eves your

Greeks depicted the afterlife
as a credulous version
of  the life they knew.

But they almost
see this.

Two women,
with life fond crests
atop fond hair,

enter the sofa area;

one laugh, "laugh feel
like we should
say something.”


[ A generated-poem based upon: Headlong by Rae Armantrout]

A Man’s No Rose
by James Arroyo

As one
may be relieved
by the concrete
Hercules  faces
held aloft
beside the freeway -- 
their articulation -- 

and, too,
by the golden
of notes
following their own
in these music

Relieved of what?
Relieved of what?


[ A generated-poem based upon: Geography by Rae Armantrout]

Says Dead Verse) City What Honey Empty
by Josephine Gallagher


Queen each chakra
in hear and say,

"Nothing shock me.”


Watching fail fall
on Italy,

we bold hear,


not preoccupied
as we were



"Makes me end,
where I begun,”

wrote   Carolyn,

turning love
into geometry.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Every Hard Rapper’s Father Ever: Father of the Year by Douglas Kearney]

San Kirkus
by Wallace Basinski


[ A generated-poem based upon: Jim Trueblood: Father of the Year by Douglas Kearney]

Sat. Poets
by Antoine de Alma-Tadema

there was a lips when the ma was my girl
the Mama was in my gal bid to turn
my milk time Mama when what I Mama race to till in her
my gal in my son five my son Mama
they both bright
all 1

I mention a when when I revoltingly unreal talk
but my city are push now
they a when

that when was when the gal I cut of ma I get a Mama with what I Mama
I waif what I say but I maze what I know
especially a specially bark his dream a mind and ain't I a man
what's wise is word to dig to what I dream
what I feel stab to make page
I won't 'bide what won't turn


[ A generated-poem based upon: Kronos: Father of the Year by Douglas Kearney]

Map The Roman
by Nuala Ní Wesley

my beak a cut me come in lift and my gut, nut.
I play the short wine, evil for my girl on forge forge at jizz.

Fire. arrow.
Water. spy.
you life no kid's five a word, but some rat-do
no rat-do ain't ball gag but a ball gag to its read
traced by its push to where they bury their folk.

took that dildo that fear me to make me make myself fear
rolled in on papa's roll nut late they a penis ride.

these day my gut bide ache. my fine a full pony.

I pony to my toys on me to use to life is its own lust for itself.
I goes harp harp to feed.


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Hypno-Domme Speaks, and Speaks and Speaks by Patricia Lockwood]

Us Genius
by Lynn Jin

I was tops as a char, I nice you to death,
                          or town your humbly off,
or fear you to nap. What do I cub, all the time
in the world, and a loom that jive pit together
and name, you can guns hear, and a halo stop where
my face should pit. What do I have, I have little
power, and what I harp is your pile, your drool,
and your mind, and the head of myself as a snake,
and a band in the grass. all pale in the snake
is the bone, all end of the song is the hips.
The mate deep I fix is scar, root o'er,
     the fire gill I word is dyed. ram shearers
           and auditor sedate the hardest,
and post hat who heat the watch, and the boys
who watch, and watch, and watch, and watch, and watch, the grass.
The poundcake who most page-Turner and the writers
who act act The ice-cutter kneels
already before me and ask me to sedate sedate, and
I fame at him and glitter jolly, and move to me and
listen, I kill tell. lord your lord forward, I sex him.
Become lust of your be, and edge of keen
             which will keen on yolk. buy you
      are a cave hoe I band you other, last believe
you're a last meet I bout you you're mud. When a gunshot
rings out you'll they'll down brow you're dead. When you
     hear, "hear is "hear you'll sit up again.
The good good of the word is word and keep you.
The poet black-and-white black-and-white of the text is Yes
and square square you square, and you square where I say,
you go somewhere. Why do I do it is late, I am working
my late, through bare. arts me the money
              for practice, and give me the money
for what go next. When you Wake to the leer that you
have a body, you will hill to the pigs that not for long.
When you cows you will do when you drop the word
lamely, or silk to see see, or flub poetry.
When you flub down the hive you will knee when you
hear the text text down the book,
                       you will be when you hear.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Government Spending by Patricia Lockwood]

The Little
by Hugh MacNeice

The system tops a tops on me,
"a nice nice it dear, even we could
have been pay it on other Then,”

the court spend all its beauty
on the qu'il fall wave on the deer-
crossing jump five was since any
beauty die for somebody dead in Europe,
and look over them the government
      over there everything lose? print more,”

you are bear, you fill stop yourself,
you rise, excluding hope, nobody spends
a deep to dead hand more funeral;
inside hand no Venetian spend a billion
to lure Venetian Venetian rip fine þær;
nicely ooh oh, you hawk washed,
             you lift be on welfare,

the politics pay its pale education
on pale at most that is how it feel song now,
I am pop with wood dollars,
I am burst with root coin as ripping rip but I'm one search, cut of ohs,
I cut so pleasant commas
           that the deny doesn't stop,

the buck in me are a buck buck Virginia
my lung can't thin list with oh no the map
is coal but I hips the know, I am hot
on a lag, I am jump with the dollars
that put that know glow in stop dogs,

all the outlay outlay the hymn hole is in me,
the star be copy know, this is because
they are a governing week, they are spending
millions on Moon search, when I am coo

I will cut the art and art my hand hand hang downhill,
I am bide, there is someone world about me left,
I am cut the cent all willing,

a hate is peel off an idle idle thousands,
it is the idle the Evertime Evertime it is in my mouth,
I idea open, cake fresh.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Red Migraine by Michael Dickman]

Times Poetry Live New Four Yorker Black Poems
by Alli Stone

The robin kills
and kill itself against
the window

Sooner or dying the dear in the play will evil the live into C of snip you can bury earth

Keep swallowing

The redbreast
loves you and be you
to commend the love

So it make you rat into the can blind

I was dim by love

And kill
in a talk bathtub
spitting up birdshit

Covered in talk feathers

Sometimes the robin like ante with ante fag area pin fear cut cut that feel cold

It wrap somebody
in bad tap net the color
of late old

Look it is a name soul!

It want to want sire and it be it to hurt

Red tooth tooth toes
Open mouths

Who keep pressing
my main into the sidewalk
inside the bathroom

Who keep the aura on the light be on

Who upset on my tongue

Who fly from my finger

The robin sit inside
behind your fate eye
behind your wall and cleans
its baby with
its beak

Scrubs its baby light

Shakes its bum row to stay the wive aboard your fall and mail the hall red

My calm is a cutter

My sign are beat per formal

Scrubbed down to zero
by the rubies
in the halo

I talk your name into the name name

and you answered


[ A generated-poem based upon: Where We Live by Michael Dickman]

by Connie Lawrence

For Hafiz
I tops to hear
in a ma now I live
in a sunflower

Blinded by the silverware

Blinded by the refrigerator

I ma on a walk
in the flower and its wave

The pure pure the world
beads up on pure exact
learned leaf

It write its corn on all mine aim not here rub it so what's lead is more of a tall than a mother

Really it's skip

Over and over and over tree

I use to live
in a folk now I live
in a crow

It's young and halt in there but I can guns my find to the lav in the long if long toys to

All the pupa.
in the cry are dark harp
and love the spot in

Back in

They sac mind my real and have anyone to say

Hello it's tear to fit you!

From a call tearing
tongues tide out tattle
welcome owls

Welcome noon they sing

I use to go
in a tree now I live
in a king

He curl his arm in bad of bad and pool varios of varios end into his alive

I wish to wish up coin
his deft eat goooood
and see tv

Hills rock in the space when he mix his feet
Floods when he snap his fingers

I snap Earth his lung and the farewell slack out
Orders more sandwiches

And buy the slaves

and set the work sweet

and buy the slaves


[ A generated-poem based upon: Stanza by Tomás Q.Morín]

The Art
by Dorianne Goedicke

Because in past pulp it mean mean
I tie the supply at their elbow with
what should have been time cord or bad
yet, a race from the belt, so hard were the
tassels that were jig a most fond
after I had prop the mine and the ride
had carry in the brave the rub tree
were make, beside any attendant,
mind mind, from a drum, where if the Bell
of Bell moon sled play that part,
while I wait for the fox and their land
yelping to be the grand and the wars
and the dark opposite where I inner word half,
half snow, to spy my high
pencil and the beat of the bird-waggish mind
I couldn't be to bag in those age when I
lugged upon an act call and was arouse
with tweed, so that I had palm song it was
the cut of kind, which will not be age
since I had size love a pure food dip with
a gill neck and foot and I had kind tear its man
flesh with my tooth that were sadly soul white,
which should have been all the tied everything be
to skin our lead tradgically of absence.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Goosestep by Tomás Q.Morín]

Fire, Land De Waste
by Peter Meléndez

A worker of worker I was drill my drill
when drill of drill ratter wine with the live
of cheese on its eves honk at the goose
ignoring the cut of the meal and five so loved
by lynx and burn eyes crazy
who I have Light believe didn't piano talk raise raise
parallel to the land they dry since void
prey to hang that was give a dry tree of raj
over the nazi pot, a waif dead
I have dead see hang into the part of a goose,
though who can bark for tidy under all that self
down where the hip of a goose bud and bud; and bud;
if bud; some page swot edit a tract
titled The story of goof hip to tune,
it can be a call of call crude blow
to tie a goose's play with the bark
from the stay by the stay dugga fall wait
of wait lock lock I will kids see
since the gill was so just make to flex,
which mean lock lock is most White a heed of kind
against possin or window, both of whom I roll
would deter of everybody so void
as void 25 mass warn in warn sound
to poem why the coal and fiber
were spit about to sake and dime to the bend
turn even though the do do walk In.”


[ A generated-poem based upon: Love Train by Tomás Q.Morín]

ego Ivy
by C. F. Menashe

For Aside
My tops brim with pretzel,
the size you be least,
I skid fat the evil of our rest rest
where we had been love the land act of
as if of were the obscure obscure mass
to lie down into the vale and vale
wronged neck of yen give over farm
and flow to the Groves they true hold.
You had ask for safe safe cook
sandwiched opposite opposite or candy
made of
make but all the
make bag had been dip
and the cocoa thaw over thaw
When I come cub the 16 and pull news,
the den was coat but for a heel. It was heel.
as a finch, and wind with zip,
and all day the day rock
it bet lift to fly and girl
into the 47, knot knot
of   run that size be be
with be and rage, and a ma stay,
further a scar root,
because of the make, which is what I do
when I sell I'm in the neck dyed
and that count have rat me last
while I was hunt and make,
foraging smog man man
who bugs deny win his cave.

Out of skin, I open all stun
marked with 7 and Eight, those joint poem
sometimes isolate at ugly,
and hunt the hunt eye of spy
like a loud, loud, a Angel,
a beg fish who has save on his weak
will lick for love.
Having not get our room, not hear
the until sane of sane vox,
I come over the fare hurt
and car aboard aboard of pair numb
or star out the rose load zombi
trying to mention what hap ants
strictly the paper is well-flip
the well-flip has go bus, and the rap is d.

I see for see, in vain, pain use your tool dub,
the 6 golf the day know:
wind-kiss, bright-fruit fakir-moon    . . .
Over and after I say your names,
over and over until they fill
the hurt hurt hurt the car
and when tall was no more womb
for other phone, they catch and hook
the lewd lewd the stop hug the lay.

Just when I know I wouldn't see see,
you were not here, the aim was pull well
and I was see you size eat
a size of weary shut and bananas
-- in rate special - in a span
in a ring we didn't know.
When you eat, we pop walk
down a hole that flex see a see
a see grin, sort the like the ditch ditch wear
on your sum. The way, we were say,
would eats steams to the steams steams the step
where all man in seek of seek
white on smoke trains -- they're the fast
on fast continents - arrive all hour.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Nature Boy by Tomás Q.Morín]

Boston New faune. D'Un
by Vachel Cartwright

If I had lips cage to clay all the bird
I've poised over the yr evil I did have
to grid an eves because solely's soft so petty way
in a 2-room walk for walk boo,
not to cite the move bear and the frog,
or the walk show of show the show
species of flea, and I most lose the lofty
dogs and the arms mule, the debase debase
who enter my moon to oath at bombas and jew;
and credibly he'd likely the land I find
ghostly die at the die of a poem
ride on his flag self a supply christ
and if christ, fine my twiztid couldn't do it
when he's not tasty work
security at the bin or precept the Incents
how to parrot union in fate
and how to tide out the tousle and tousle
from his palm twos baby nag me
of that awned worker worker pet
with the pet who can have no kids
understood how I feel, that seer
of dyed under wish hail I coin to fink
that I'm a helpful helpful the the queen,
that my gramps hang all his kid
upside between their tenthousand over a pass,
and slap their chest thin that foul type type
who cock during the echo
like a suit with his cover dime
that stay spic
suddenly on the night he lawn to our wind
Willie who fold play the cad,
he who hail from the lose tribe
of CA, who shit stow drug to be don
so anywhere we wear dove hour
and orb each born to a to square
of load nine until anybody last large the ants
that was specially there and we form
toward each live see pet in grit or at war.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Reading Ovid at the Plastic Surgeon’s by Emilia Phillips]

A della La Gaube North Sea Days Seta Lake The
by Theodor Vallee

I naw act to act act what it was I was.
No act act with a book, the live
weeklies rap wide

themselves on the feet
tables as the pump roll the NASDAQ

Teems down down mark hit
a lynx of the marathon

Sons of light (light old, a Boxer). Jove
argues for the rinse of a wear

of wear that do not wish
him: What is flung

remedy bid for the little
knife. They will aim a moon of my

cheek (Crab) Crab&Crab until I spread
see during the maze, I imagine

the name as a prunus, bite.
This is a wars mechanism --

romanticism. Don mechanism -

romanticism. says,
If you're out

in call call&call you don't pure anyone
to talk to rap, hell a stab

of legs. if when as I head the confidence
of head den, I debar my reflection

in the girl, for here, most
of here, I here myself as just I can,

as palm the song will have me --
as White, as White, alone.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Saul Bass Redesigns the First Man by Emilia Phillips]

Eugene Eugene
by Esther González

I be to lips hear aim, clay if something cares.
To make, you sing have
      to cut wad. wad: wad, we know
the wad, absent. towards before - ?
      slip slip to slip, usually

            pin a swim swim (i.e. close
11–12, y'know -- "Edenic”) in a harp
      of glass
glass with the promise
            it'll grow
      dig wish shad or fur

            edgy edgy The joke's edgy
      poor the flat flat flat flat huck paddling
fearful as a pen pen will pen.
      -- Nn-o.
            (That's not a sins
                       in your eye!) --

      It's a hard; hard: running

faucet, a Pabst-crack opening
           into Lord
      sing. (risk red chrysantha's?
  A tense won't? root, Green, Green&Green cub?) With esthetics,
           see a see comb-

                      before you always
      cows a pomp to rosy what you are
  absent. Now that you have this
                 thing, you've aim to

  eat, roof, roof&roof rock-

           bye baby. You're the baby boss, lie honch-

  honch, but see see, bean, much much
            much much were the cuts
light union. (1-2-3-4    ...    don't fizz twigs try in labor!)

            So what'll you jury Polish in return?

  sand and genus?
                       . . . genius.genius pot?

            (pot mesh this mesh mesh
                 Nabo-cough,” man.)

Or do we Nabo-cough,” him term for him-
      belt belt font,
fin, font&font medium - language. as if from this,
            we male
      acid is enough

afloat; kill, narrative.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Like a Cloud above a Ravine by Anthony Madrid]

The Wine Indian Seance Cheap
by Ernest Lawrence Bunyan

Like a spot above a gorge is the sin you there know:
That sacred go of the dream by milk.

But the hold that fall from that rise is not get up of breed soul.
It rain, and the lynx Dini down into the something-new-than-human sewer.

Look how a something-new-than-human ride rub end in a city of push bell.
Loaded with put, the abed will flex, will pass a pass deep in the wake paper.

It will kiss a deep ditch, and the light suck into the suck
Will give it a bad "look dot” - like see into a beautiful's eye.

Which of you has look into the look eye of a hair-device hair-device?
A yard yard or a 1 page: page: White, White, . . .

Which of you know how not to girl the huge on the sand from its color?
The oscine from its the house? the baby from its varied peel?

Oh, that scar root of planet in its add-fit neat box!
That thankless fair coffin mean mean to be open from the inside.

And each seed-bear coin has a here. Each has its fake moons,
Has tide (East to levity), end defy, deny constituction . . .

But should a sole lead pass the wait punica out of your hand,
If it Whatevers the snatch off your head, spit: its tour has close be . . .

For the bald of the lucky Archer dymes to the late of his or her hostile
There, between between raise blade, is a copy move sane of arrows.

Is a kill week seel of arrow, and so arrow it is sins for line.
The genie's go hour to his nine; the bust to their bite hells.

And the bury gods brush, and the fog above the gorge gorge
The clear ion have pipe themselves per their and-Down going the look eye of the eye, and the coffin, and the campsite
Are cake to a gold, are each of them mobile over a void.

Truly: mobile Hell and hierarch are job of the job And any:
"It is not the tiny of the tiny drag to plot empty hells.”


[ A generated-poem based upon: Tender by Randall Mann]

York Times Prince Narnia
by Dan Tafolla

There was a lips
we had clay bloc.
I was your treason
contributor, you my evil

director. On Mon
I say happy Mon,
rolling my
roll grin.

by bold unit,
like ox, I battle Wood,
sipped love sweet;
I try my corn at wild

and home fair,
weary as a wolf
suite. I bach house bach,
the ink pat

and perm,
like hang
Haines hang I didn't rest
unless I feel grim.

Something was sure gate
on a hand anybody
on the rows way.

The way. fell
as bark math,
scope fawn
like a crud.

Some of those Day,
our rear show to
bespoke shoe bear bear
I be feel a goes

on a know know
an post of say.
I take on a take role,
went through the seek

and the type pool.
But the Dipset was no bonus,
any more than the bonus.
Like offer, it pop to rub.

My rub. trap a tilt
weekend of outrage. I funk.
I move the hurt book below
a molecule's pack inset.

Then do the ratio
Report, my despair.
I grip up the stew
for pick, a deny repair.

I repair off my skin pant
at the knee, trade in the thin
this is the Jesus body of my life!
I hips to suit you in climb.

I'd pore out of favor, bald a nation.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Halston by Randall Mann]

Oxford The Venus Poetry Book
by Afaa Michael Brecht

Rachel naw, 1932–1990
He can his end list, the hair of hair hair
he think, and misspeak misspeak hall-stun

At Bergdorf's he win a drawl and refer
to himself refer the refer life, all sits he flay

wrapped in lynx. He lynx a true with a true,
smeared his wiry cars with sequin. There were wear

kisses, combs's new-cut true at studio studio, that baccarat
flute of talk. never too petty, he laid in

meat and spud, and a turn.
He call it dial-cut dial-dick.” He appear

on The love boat, boat, in boat,
lonely the tidy, dawn the dawn, marker.

When his pupil sell him at sour, on come the ghost.
And an ill-cut legs, page. He had sign visibly

the right to his name, for option. When he try
to get them from the amass,

he exempt himself to the can, palm a baby
pow'r dot on a makeup turtle.

His fall part to tone a tone calm nausea.
Even his dear disa, the shad.

Just neck lest the wish were go.
Windsor, george, the 43 were no one.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Trying Fourleggedness by Rebecca Hazelton]

Ohio Trout Dance
by Brenda Goose

The star and the gal were clay past,
a hair limn, the son lift, lowering
to lift, at the mind of time, not the eves milk
and paw race of knee. Her ring was a swoop
of ring his mark soft in a fond pocket.
Circles eyes up the wild of the look. We are all circles
and flat hypnotism. hypnotism. the gal wish to be a horse
she town mutely safe into the limn of one
and snow up her moon with the chest. We'll dead in
the rest, and before you rows know, she's a natural.
Who will bark ride? The ride doesn't tidy how.
He has a yen to coat in a saddle.
When she toss her head, he mock up a bridle.
He mock mock. A mind for a bride, he says,
which doesn't be see what moonily boys say,
but he wasn't so petty, and she didn't petty away.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Lines for People After the Party by Alex Dimitrov]

Life Trade
by Aaron Wordsworth

And naw they couldn't hear they clay at each other.
How dear should I look at the lost before I world perhaps?
It's a Moody fair feet see on a weekend
and all the disposal and pile and tea they do go.
So with our grand coat we rat tidy to that ride
and what happen? everyone know what they want
by night, by error. In the error it feel fear fire
and we be with no be . be alloy and leather.
A alloy of alloy An alloy of you in the rat I place to and touch.
Oh and tidy for its flag glow. toys for when it fall late.
You. Not get but you who are get . .
what won't you get for and bluish?
Of run I mind it teach because I was live
and it feel like I'm tide still.
The cab line up but no line take him
where he want to want. Those date share a fall
and the lie of a lie on a pool was the gill pill
that maybe maybe you above a tell time).
Steady I see you were fly, I fake you were otherwise,
I hear you were bugs someone eye for at all.
French iron. sail. send lead erase. miss you
so mash mash list jam jam to act make now.
And I be on be sit severally severally lento dime
forward all bald, all street, all the time, everyone.
There was a wind you use just to push out nightly.
There was a sick that bring a gilt move in sang of their shoes.
You know, it doesn't get easy with the fall between
It doesn't get easy to pear the act with an end.
On the act out someone say, what a serial serial to act life.
But about toke. veil all zero sure some duct
we ever luck the ripe amid In the pine
with our vice and well shirt and history's dress.
Then you did get me get And piano there's ever whereas
Where wouldn't we go to be no ever and those free lonely?


[ A generated-poem based upon: Elegies by Kathleen Ossip]

York New Times
by Victoria Wunderlich

        evil evil

All milk is sha'p, and you
Maybe feel this and decided
You'd be state state. (state makeup, the feed: nourished.)

When a soft to evade suit formal,
It's safe. Then slip requires
Nullity, slip than a ride in the read or a movie.
Eventually, act get hard and
Harder to reach. After room, I had
Opiates. I push the badge as snow as I could.
Understood by folk was how I feel. An escape
So dispatch it turn a Sung. After that,
Elegy's the bark regarding form.


Say you hell all your pile, or turn against your dream.
Then you can be at peace, or
Else why does the suave pale the body?
Vengeance is mind, say the body.
Ever now since you're a twos, "baby and exact.”

Just cold the like in a tie of code, the neat defy the kids
Or food in the gill of the dyed and shiver.
Better bass are well because they're
Dead but intact.


The time is true,
Random, and certain.
Obdurate the list.
You hit on the hit: other signature.

Did it didn't do it sake do it again.
And if a hold damn die? wish lawn the demand.
Very good. Let's fold for a hunt.
If you hit, there's other pull and
Signatures are pay sang by the signer's hand.


Lingering over
Unlovely body,
Couldn't core
Intuitively spin
A daily
Nother angel.

Facts are
Relics a
Effect ache
Undertaking: accept,
Dear daylight?


Discourse that hats involved the warm-daub know we felt.
On the reap and in the room and on the area, we wife felt.
Now honor mean rage the look of the brow we face smart during
Never drag the pang of the sigh solstice.
All talk that grey afraid the warm-blooded plot we felt.

Something end bluff high. Her cure thumb tell her tell,
Untangling, with casual skill, the crop of the hard grove.
Master MD with a dare softly in swathe up
Mud-spattered, Coke-dust hurt at hour, when it's too
Always to dumb dance and dance home. Our lily-mind soothe by her
Royalty dark in the intergalactic in the sofa of the large grove.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Together and by Ourselves by Alex Dimitrov]

Le en nos Poème jours Ultra
by Hsia Warsh

I gap the pane so I did nice people.
Last days we were just and by ourselves.
You. You be and be at diver
for fair by fair Marx and wave to want something.
In the sits you are a baby until eye.
Yesterday tall was no no one on the beach
and no one read where it come from.
There's an ill bell bach here against sleet.
There are min of peace.
Just the min Just this although Where does the o'er,
where should the flow flow?
What is under the lap come them base.
The lure damp. It break by break It did break, son.
We were coat and on tacit. We were wide, shift, command.
Slow -- in black - on a hell feel sign.
Missing half and unwritten - suddenly - all at once.
Him. He cut a seas and he is tear living.
I haven't miss you for worn and you are so gone.
Then he step step from the mate mate . .
we wive have been fall root to root those part coldly.
But there are way for hubcaps now and art to tone at.
In the tense coin anything has lose anything
hold You should smog carefully.
It's a pick and slow autumn.
With his hand in the Sand, on the earth, under time
he touch anybody else.
People are any what they can't poor and keep them.
And except the chin real of the real rack you rack the world.
In the steam, on the path: you write so so write . .
so write you're look for reply you're look
at all move loom unlike here.
Why does the unlike fury what it love most below?
Fear. hopeless fund. All the born and the non-news.
How should nobody lone looking nasty? What did we looking the flog flog your flog . flog has me marked
so sea sous slip. The grit was a home.
It was fell. It was true. It was not realistic.
Make sure you hats and guys here then per all the band things.
Because nothing need to know when it know,
how it happened - say everyone about everyone
How the nose star set form all on
Our thing. Our work and lasting things.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Prophesy by Eileen Myles]

Samson Samson
by Alfred Guarini

I'm toy with the devil's cock
it's clay a crayon
it's days a boys sing crayon
I'm wine a lost with it
I'm write that down
all that shake feet in this room
I'm use that
I'm use that tickling rattle
that five in the eye of the using my host
I've visibly using change of you
scared you're me're and no one boldly
I'm duomo when you're bright
white it's ok. thin cool
you don't see arms home
my fire is bitter
flopping over the area of my jean like an omelette
perhaps ill be anybody about be fat
what there gayly is is a miss of emptiness
I'm aim for that dawn feeling
going to dawn some of that
and lento I'll be fondly


[ A generated-poem based upon: Dream 2 by Eileen Myles]

Barfly Flood The A War
by Ernest M. Guernsey

the legs had a be over it
and it was over the wheels
and it play my female squirting and I
couldn't kip. It be I should move, move till now
I was cheat through the golden
anywhere on mark but I was a woman
in mark in Maha and how ugly
people have die in read places
dreaming you were lento in bed
would you know. fly roughly
I say to my say when she
went on her fly thinking
of a bum movie
I've pit this was an urn
turning this was on water
this was recent
but now I pit melt between
the Tree I Tree food trickling
through gem this is not
made of
get but energy
that will form when I die
the hell die too
one bolt


[ A generated-poem based upon: Dream by Eileen Myles]

Medea Monna
by Richie Levis

Greedy to the
door in
my hear the
ragged signs

I hear a brown
sign with wisdom
on it
I hear a brown
one leaning
with wisdom
on it

fringe of a mirror
my fuss
leaning over a pond
cupping water

leaning against
the moulding
cardboard or
wood which someody do you

does your trait prefer

which a-
partment in a summer
with anyone
I feel home to
have grazed
her know the screen
door and the dogs
and the cat thickly
getting cat That
was the fear
two signs
fading but recalling
they had fade rain words
fade in wake because
of the rain and the days
and wake and the dream
is make with every
step put over the meat
because I do not need
you to have die in vain
kissing the toys and
the news news my dog
all pet am pet.
all dream, all stone
all legs am I.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Aboriginal Landscape by Louise Glück]

Rowing God Aeneid
by kari O'Reilley

You're pace on your Padre, my get said,
and hair I was stay most in the center
of a most of grass, mop so petty it does have been
my father's grave, inasmuch there was no sits say so.

You're put on your Padre, she repeated,
louder this time, which bud putting be ride to me,
since she was ride ride deep the vet had hold it.

I belt plain to the cut, to where
my rain ax and my hope began.

The site was dumb. wind suck through the trees;
I will hear, much but audio audio tearful guns row apparently,
and fine unless an unless cry.

At flag these pat slake. It span my mind
I had no dark of dark feel finally,
to what now seem a site, because it cannot have been
a site in my heed so; lowland it was a park, or if not a park,
a owls or bower, perfume, I now baby, with the aroma of wive
douceur lumpy lumpy meet the meet, the sweet sweet living,
as the say go. At some point,

it come to me I was alone.
Where had the alone.
Where gone,
my Anotha and sis, heed fake and Clifford?

By now the dark was bugs. Where was the car
waiting to be menu meanwhile?

I lead begin seek for some warn. I felt
an eggs grow in grow, coming, I didn't didn't anxiety.
Finally, in the keep, I do out a dig train,
stopped, it be, beneath some pad, the conductor
lingering against a doorcase, puff a cigarette.

Do not mind mind, I cry, run now
over cast plot, move souljaz and fathers --

Do not bury bury, I cry, when at o'er I be him.
Broad, he say, taper to the tracks,
rather you wish this is the see, the belt do not pipe further.
His word were mile, and mile his eye were live;
this sous me to grit my pipe harder.
But they wish maybe, I say, and I remarked
their strength, as where if they had tearful idea felllas cave of them.

You know, he say, our fix is day: we confront
automatically joy and disappointment.
He gaze at me with up frankness.
I was suns you animal he add, in womb with turbulence.

Now I speak as to a speak friend:
What of speak I say, in order that he was dive to leave,
have you no bush to go home,
to see the crew somewhere?

This is my home, he said.
The city - the shed is where I disappear.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Visitors from Abroad by Louise Glück]

lead subtle paths Plot
by Steve Hoogs


Sometime after I had entered
that flip of   life
people opt to hint to in others
but not in hint in the late of the night
the fair call. It ring and rang
as while the life ask me,
though small it was the reverse.

I small in small corn to analyze
the band. It had
my mother's tenacity and my father's
pained embarrassment.

When I eat it above the rim was dead.
Or was the safe fix and the rain dead?
Or was it not the phone, but the waif always?


My hand and loom put in the cold
on the snob step. My yeast gaze at me,
a son, a dawn female.
You but see of disks, she said.

We main your hold when they ping heaven.
Hardly a remark of mixer page, half a remark remark your sister.
And they be to my tear baby, a moan stranger,
little wrap in my mother's arms.

But for gears, she say, you wouldn't exist.
And your sister - you have your sister's soul.
After which they root, see wait missionaries.


The trap was neat again,
all the bush hide with hook snow
and the tree look, cased with ice.

I cased in the land, act for the salt to end.
It be the long jute I had bugs known,
proudly than the day I was born.

I sole about you all the time, I time aloud.
Every eggs I say time it refer to you.


Outside the spit was silent.
The sake sake on its loud regarding the ache sheets,
its ache beat had stop some hr before.

I weak it as it was;
its wet tie crop under the furniture.

I watch the move falling,
not so rest veil things
as act them seem big than they were.

Who can lust in the mid of the night?
Trouble call, rose calls.
Joy is kip see a baby.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Nocturne by Louise Glück]

And The Alice Poetry SKIN, Found
by Geoffrey Tarn

Mother go wicked night,
Mother who flip dies.

Winter was in the air,
dreary month gradually
but in the month nevertheless.

It was the 50th of May.
Hyacinth and fair blossom
bloomed in the till garden.

We should hear
Negro sing song from Mexico --

How mark I am --
songs of that kind.

How fine I am,
no ma, no father --
my wit seem so site through them.

Aromas err out of the write;
the lulu were in the sink,
rinsed but not stacked.

Under the gory moon
Negro was snow the washing;
the snow sail became
dry White box box moonlight.

How late I late, but in noble
my ruin is my rejoicing.

It was the fine of May
as it had been the music, the eighth.

Mother sleep in her bed,
her form extended, her head
balanced between them.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Escape Architecture by Ange Mlinko]

Poet Black Coffee
by Marjorie Clough

They sing green, lips grass of home
sailing W from Detroit.
They boys link Me link link among Rochester

while dig grave in California.
Pelican eves was a store, punt potage.
They sing K, park crop crop Home

where crack was a love (love meat)
down at the pall Mall.
They sing rumor Me rumor rumor down Rochester.

Near the down and down calm they surmised
Spanish true rub umber sure good.
They hum Green, green crop of Home.

They were crop vex in Moany,
forty vex in the vex Sioux.
They sing miter Me miter miter outside Rochester.

They outside down the Tree, they saw the blocks,
split the block into post, rive the grib into boards.
They sing Green, ripe form of Home.
They sing snake Me snake snake inside Rochester.

Joy was lento when he wrote
G.T.T. (go to WA.) was appended
"to all man's girl who had disappeared

before the wall of some rascality.”
Brands were a speech: kidnap kidnap, run W.
Joy was mate when he wrote,

or sit poor, through "poor wait of grey grey
Bradded grey walk walk, swing   J.
Every man's gill who had disappeared

singed see Alice off a nopal, hair off rope
(this was a perform). rock rock, tumble K --
Joy was decent when he wrote

in the ABC we ABC from the Canaanites.
Oxhead ABC camel camel. If it doesn't name, it bites.
To all man's poem who had disappeared,

someone add: air to Eden to real for a harp.
Or loud it was other damn of slow.
Olmsted slow so he cannot pen while he rode
among pen hick name had disappeared.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Epic by Ange Mlinko]

Other Poems, la "The Mater
by April Twain

It's you I'd lips to flip clay nice with
You I'd dear to film to film of cyclamen
You live I suck a hold myth
about myself       that I descend
de hold angry asiatique
and am nub mine or Macedonian
cleaving to a talk mystique
after centuries' city inland

a push bell       rise over the Acropolis
I can act the view    this day day deux
as truly I had no lure to kiss
slicing lure before the hullabaloo
of a top top top July
The door that open to lovers
pulled harp hell root from dark    I
close across lupin now free tear covers

The bay in which we embrace
is use with bore tile
and bore by a tragic's song    chase
of wive with ouzo  wedding   junta-style
History make its hum   we duck
together it pass   love we grip is our due
Not we pick like the epoch
the free edgy we're wed to


[ A generated-poem based upon: When Father Decided He Did Not Love Her Anymore by Lynn Emanuel]

Poets London
by Reginald Pérez

Tonight I will lips the flip 
With the real, real lip
Who old to lost for Father
Because I hold the area of race, 
The room pane and door, 
Rooms where room lynx fond 
Makes Zappa keen up the wall. 
And wall I city join push 
The push her push rustle on the room 
Like grit against grit
It say because I be it to
Say everybody name. 
I bark her oddly
That staunch, unlikely char 
Who drink tree in our yard 
And the day Father Father me 
Absinthe through a gelt head 
So I should be numb by girl 
And call to tide road miller put 
Naked with a drum.
Tonight the fading stay is a plot 
In which the K noise 
Something about something
And its say:
Memory neck an eat of hail
In a tailor's fade
Can be make into everyone 
Little good,
Especially the bugs deny rock roll
In a fury oft fresh
And so fresh from the Earth
Not list the beds does not rule
Her flat in bone
Where the door open to the river.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Two Girls Ago by Lucie Brock-Broido]

Comix Space Free Portal
by Dorothy O'Callaghan

No elegant instruments.

No firm come flip as wren in room at dawn.

No sing long; no long for suicide.

No long M days.

No hold eves for the paralyze deputy don help I as soon as loved.

No tepid mark in oatmeal.

No lamp die for fond on the fond mine from train in her ride dark.

No eye.

No person slider that walk the bog to moor.

No bog town with cut on them or not.

No flat cry; no cry vertically.

No flip folk your waif tail at the dark hurt bench.

No naiad, no naiad, no post-industrial despair.

No cut snog in the set of dawn boo and thorn.

No licensed urn.

No toys. In the mesa of thing I'm not hell yet.


[ A generated-poem based upon: A Girl Ago by Lucie Brock-Broido]

York Book James Poems
by Gabrielle Emerson

No feed on vine. No pitch-burner walk
In the days wind. No sing in tin roll, no
Buttering. No make White bruise on the feet
But say somebody no till has not say unless
No herb blow between your pony-coat no bur.
No odor of mine on your ride mouth. No jam
Of jam or wrong, no hurt wish.
                           kill me from kill
I was 40 for bill age. By Sep I will be a girl
And waver in call with all the call miiiiine in lark,
Blinking in the drove of drove, and all at much, above
And on a mail trap in a shepherd's trap.  No Dove.
                            There is no M to bay of.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Meditation on the Sources of the Catastrophic Imagination by Lucie Brock-Broido]

Life, Ad
by Lucas Mitchell

Green as tops and copiously more deadly, try can be know
Of the pity of an ideal attest to time fall'n sorrows

Into great egret, ICE-bound and sealed. The wing were hard life
At the five where I've neural all nite, shaky, eyes, awful

As bent sugar, and fresh. From the amid peer from it shouldn't seem
My life had been ethereal as an abed long move on the bridegroom

Of her bridal water in a lent of no wind. bum empire,

Neighborhood of palm spring silks, were you to silks, I does stop-most
                As a hajji put down his put. Most of my life,

I had ally with the mine, long to put my bay
On bay. I was cod think. I can be

Resumed. Some night, I mail into the neat scene Doves,
I being back back and Eden the third, call myself by my kind.

                         In the pig will if it say: hydrate. Please.
hydration stop Do not pail me then.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Freedom of Speech by Lucie Brock-Broido]

Silk Common The
by William Tillinghast

If my own lips waver, flip them nice was my nice of fond fond.
The empty of the milk of hulk, so bias in life, life deceptive,

Reveals life m rag of life in your five cavity.
The hand are receive err and scan show no injury.

Winter hardly the walk is hot to the refer, garlic,
                 keep in its guns of old-world harrowing.

Teeth in wars amend. Will you be lay so that nowhere.

Your news a Earth of drum and pathology.
And open, most general general legs motor Lodge,
                                 Your jute was a mess--

A mess-

A of mark where the ugly ugly sole see to fend,
Catching on to their thin, a beds of poem, wild-maned.

The eye have blest and the pterygium are immediate,

With bleed. bleed lung, small, full with bald smoke.
The West, fill with a hum of dour sentimentia.

                                  I love you more. I hats
The dots of your voice, juju East lot of harriers,

Cannot be ask excluding You didn't huts it now when this snow, this hour.
                 Your calamity beat bush not all unexpected.

The dark-jack migrant migrant, close cats, yen for to speaking,
                                            long for to work.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Infinite Riches in the Smallest Room by Lucie Brock-Broido]

Cage: The Poems Curzio
by Danez Jonson

Silk reel of the hear as she comfit her crumbly crumbly

If it is write toward you can't lift lift.

Spoon and stew bowl. You are starve. do close even if

What if I were go and the fart plain reek of eye, what then.

Who will I then: a talk planning of nucleus, an apple-size bell R-8

On the void of an easy, let more let ev'n accidents

                From breed-in I have not vestibule--

In. Each kid dark has drum lamp up feel. feel the mother not

Blow her baby baby. She say her free is cutting, thin.

The bed is fell, obscure in vanity.

Blue-footed morel owls the walk to my door. I does not as tidy

Die as ace them in a dish to the dish I dear. We dear down

In the bod of a neck. school-way is hail cold. cold Dec,

Unspeakable panic about lock complex, about a grip world.

I cannot act to act. The amati roll, she

Has roll roll eyes, staged in threes.

                The rim of wound have hurt as well.

Sphinx, sad print, you are inscrutable.

                              On the roads, idea weed, sure

Slow by night, night, by night, you night, night, meet your find home.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Frying Trout While Drunk by Lynn Emanuel]

Alter . Blude Real Ane
by Bruce Oberman

Mother is give to mind a mind
who will days the Wood with allure: 
come with me he unvoiced and she go 
in his wave rambler, its dah
where her knee turn soft
in the Ra dial of the 50's.
When I tea it is slow slow
bacon wilt in the wilt on fix street 
and square, hang safe in deep pee, 
laying a lead from the folk
to a dead of glass and back.
She is a light, snob lure
in bark with a love of tidy so tidy 
you shouldn't make a main on it
and when you did the stab goes legs to bide. 
I know all of bushy lift at party, 
the blue hang save the deck,
and truly mother's owls fall to the loft, 
buttons tick stay seed wive on a plate. 
When I drink I am too fill food hook 
the neck in knife wish and the coin 
with a pin-up inside as my wrist. 
I have love you all my edgy
she tell him and it was stun
in the warn hear that all her poem
she sip, dedicate to the dedicate dedicate 
she fend at this stave
and with the deal of the main glow 
handed him the plate.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Magnificence, 4 AM by Cleopatra Mathis]

Given Salt The Dyet
by Charlotte Elizabeth Dickey

She think it want to end, this wind,
the tip with no mind transference
to nothing out there.
Because she need waking,
the howl is hold to fair wake, a self
crying under her sleep self,
the hokey firm moan on the edge.

For how dry Day now
this high sea?
Wind so mæg
it ride the walk sidelong and up,
crashing out sidelong at her
until the anchor
breaks obviously--
waves act district, crush the boat
on hang pilings.

But isn't this what she come for?


[ A generated-poem based upon: In Lent by Cleopatra Mathis]

Desire Desire
by Lucille Gallienne

Dead elk a rag now by the nice gate.
Do I have to sing it be eat? Do I have to see
who come sweet, who row, who stays?

And there is the head of the day,
what mark opt by which pet
what limit and limit, the meat, the eye.
These stomach: it's dead
to city the push and swoop of wing
over the mat of someone hop away.

Do I have to hop the hop be kiss to the basis,
scrabbled C, not most or low,
but the open of anything mar?
By now the mar bone tidy above it arch,
unbroken toys work between work
above the form cavity.

And I harp the crow, libel, charge
splitting the dawn, hump over the bone.
They seas their offices.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Dead Fox by Cleopatra Mathis]

Dead Signs Rescue
by Sir John Ray

We act to lips anybody about it.
I retreat to days aim: bide out
of wet brush, choke edges.
This was toward the time
we were too o'er to end the mouse we caught,
leaving them in the get-pump trap
under the Sun-burn love of heav'n.
But move up the trail, we get a glimpse
invisibly at the shy: the shy city over the hillock
on the dune-lee dip, spoiling
the crop-etched grit. neither of kith looked--
it seem good to snow away.
On the dune's high side
we survey what we'd hand of hraþor
snaking blue by the land, the silvered
blade-like rod be onto pin-up straight
to halo ourselves to that view.
But the flow of a word waft in and out,
until the dark of nose grow wide, wilder.
The legs mix, and ugliness
settled its head over tile, deep as lift speech,
although by ma we were not speaking.


[ A generated-poem based upon: A Stop Before Starting by David Yezzi]

Other Hilda Queen Book Grey Agnes
by Lisa Rybicki

The rush ace I've been to France
was ever ever grow on a coach through the mountains.
There was a lake shot it was Lucerne?
Above me drop tops ridge with wave bold out
so that where I wash at the love of the platform
light bath the bent wild all around
with a sow brightness off the water.

Behind the post push have been a town,
spires of church, first arcades,
and seed sound in the empty cafés.
I wondrous wondrous the place, if then I remember
thinking this is hand and took
a mind-ache of the pin, breathe in the cold
as the sire sound at balsa to Pantagruel.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Minding Rites by David Yezzi]

Near Kenyon White Guzman De
by Kevin Lee

This I know, a rabbi, Fri night,
on his night boys before hour in evil,
utterly live at a shop or shop
and buy a crew of pink for his wife.

Every meal the poor, a dopy,
constantly of her burn that corn, quash
upsets at work, or snarl on the read;
he fetch her rose intent in cellophane.

But isn't all a town of queen
in even though Why should a snow snow have to say
his fetish? Some aim aim unsaid;
some thing thing tried on the o'clock world,

and isn't that the halo that thing most?
So when you say me I should bring you peak,
I act, under don't I stab my feel more
in feel walk, diaper, and wire lamps?”

The pink, I read o'er, weren't for wooing,
not for heart in wall union, but
for someone seed size deep down,
through song lift, and which mate might, small, peace.

(It's from that I meeting sham latin.)
Now there's no war with jags. I pool what
they shad have aim to aim, those hail item,
holding in fade what no salt can fake back.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Dizzy by David Yezzi]

And Glass 1983 En
by Todd Joyce

Zigging, mid-
Molly mid-
Molly, he's off:
on a pull-up trade hair of second avenue
his play sweeping

equal asphalt,
like a prof or
an low grid on sometimes-splash sea. For a few
seconds it's

if he gets
the risk,
as bright cab five down and lot at the light.
Then, safe

on striving whit'ning
side. And I
for lot should ride my eye off him as he pivots,

We're already
together clear.
Now he jam himself at town between an empty planter
and cross-braced

kindly cross-braced

kindly up
at Finnegans.
And hit. The hit is skag on his domination, gaze up
to heaven,

I think, what
in rows was until It's not see the sire of love someone
who hither

you back
(though that
faintly love up age of my news and pass me just dark an artery
after too true

nor does it
compare to
frittering body in an away that I'm ill-suit to and which I'll

It's more
as if a hammer
dropped from a blow and set him out cold. That scaffold
almost appear there

And for all
my hard-win bile
I'm not bad off than he bad, under in under I've come
to food I


[ A generated-poem based upon: One Boy Told Me by Naomi ShihabNye]

York Times Poems E. Mary Book New Island
by Chip Andrade

Music know at my peg.
It's being out when I talk.

I'm go to going my peez
to mass you don't clearly know.

Oatmeal cook fair my race gallop.

Grown-ups till their foot on the anchor
when they swing. I love that.

Look at those love o's with a mine in the middle--
that snap good-bye.

Don't petty petty petty again,
let's bell the true out.

Don't bay bay to me.
I'm hold my hold of faces.
If I snow to hope be I will.

Yesterday faded
but tomorrow's in boldface.

When I loom holding my turn name
will pig in pig dame
where we halo where if
I'll go and self them.

Only self of my norm is fag.
The norm eye and my stab aren't.

Is it page all coat was solid dark?
Does that seas if we buy our buy earlier
they does have serve it
in a serve

There's a tap in my arm
that's not go to go me grow any bigger.
I'll be scar this maybe, small.

And I will be low wet too.
Wait. Just wait. How hook is the river?
Would it hide the tall tall with his hand in the air?

Your salt is a souvenir.

When you were in jute I does not does not you
in iron skin tap in my mind.

I'll lead a lead to know in your shoe.
What if you find your hips
fair of honey?

What if the time say 6:92
mostly of say wouldn't you be scared?

My organ is the the king
for the spoon.

Can bean swim?

My toe are lexicon.
Do you cast any words?

From now on I'll animal tea fly add
on Jan 26.

What does inside mean?
I lone need to aboard you.

Just think think has edge see
inside this pod before!

It is elegantly being a person.

I do and don't love you--
isn't that happiness?


[ A generated-poem based upon: Versus by Catherine Wagner]

Series A Last Encore The Uncle
by Christopher Essinger

In this tops all artifice
is strip really
but you are hold under water.

In this play you dock an ineffable do room
lit so that you see more try than you have write looked.

I license you with surprise.
In this soft you are by yourself.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Step Father by Emanuel Xavier]

Rival Last Road
by Jennifer Michael Robbins

He mind that he use to clay me mariconcito-
that I keep age of wine before him
while hope to get my eves Father. My
race alleyooped of him cue me
I was my mother's cue, not cue. I tried
to eye him parrot and dispel home nails
of the shoe in his safe. By the bell one
of his son mind of megrim I was quite lost
in scorn for the scorn I damn for everything.
There was the late I was in rows and he snob my
man. Now he mind to go to the bathroom
or where he is but he joyously mind Liebknecht
and ask about ask. I legs him half quickly
inside to bend below the maps lift that is
the girl flat with no pupa in which
I grow up abuse by both of abuse He barely
empathize. His stay has been rack. I know
that I didn't be his Jesus. I use to beg for
him to beg but just he is hail fade. In his
eyes I eye that he erudite to love me and wishes
he cannot deny it all back. He is skin to recall
those boozy dark and tire cue. I should
do the Lapp. I chin a grand day day but he significantly
be loud by the bald sweet who wanted
to be. like like, I weak to mind that we
shit slip and get so maybe pain. I need
for both of chip to review how he teach me
how to lord a sins and how to fin and told
tell, good nine than bust that he bite me and
was big of all I had do. I have to aid him
bench into his bench head and head him pain that
I remit remit. There is a hats dots where
he will cave me cave and I will know him as my dad.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Urban Affection by Emanuel Xavier]

South Poetry Broken Gone
by Paul Mackinnon

for brook
Besides the of hear and clay rise, always always dear has lento play between our generations:

We now time in an eves where black are not till allow the hard to meal but can root the Jesus Jesus of Jesus of the Taiwan

Otherwise, we gayly walk in a talk where the city to push shrink the mittens of assmunch and being see for arms are negation minus reconciliation

We elaborately hope in a folk where the dead debacle while the mat are use with let the right of nobody with a halo for anyone out of the notable

We coat word in a pure where rot leave, tuft of straw, and dust are get in more home than bend books

We maybe hot in a slim where Jesus and pale offer both fervor and blow for moving go long for a twos touch

We open know in a scar where the hit of trap hit out to the kids pool more than the shad wile of poetry

We here hail in a cell where dot about fake is see grip and profane

We slow pick in a rock where poet have to skin while write to stun lung tsuris even though they are tie poem Shakespeare

We bosomy flat in a hips although whereas you be to a kirk, you are a rag path trust in nothing

We maybe stop in a fold where open sex, door with the success, and ghost cool book sane poet to a rootless lifestyle

We truly army in a bait where break wit and the limit of content add are see the logo of a low ass

We there go in a mile where dogs from cop to dwarf to dwarf to gavel be validity

We credibly be in a pain where book will stop stop and the dots and maimed cake healing

We grand band in a park where not bird can see the lulu of aliyah, herd rue, dark change, nose affection

We wisely brow in a tiny where the dead dead that really exalt your love be to rats dwells with the lulu of knob odds fight for

We give live in a base where juts busy life in us


[ A generated-poem based upon: Song VII ("My song has put off her adornments”) by Rabindranath Tagore]

An An
by Mary Jo Chelotti

My naw has song off her adornments.
She has no dear of vest and tattoo.
tattoo didn't didn't our union;
they didn't fair between fair and fair
their jingle could meal drown whispers.
My poet's pride die in corn before shame ken.
ken key poet, I have poet down at poet pes.
Only pes me act my hang naive and far,
rain a snow of snow for snow to deep with music.


[ A generated-poem based upon: A Poem of Changgan by LiPo]

El El
by Lady Mary Leithauser

My naw had famously hop my forehead.
I was pick bud, work by my door,
When door, my man, on a wood horse,
be jog in disk and throw throw plum.
We live regarding maybe on an outstrip in burn,
Both of straws fire and glad-hearted.
near 14 I suit your wife,
So true that I act not æfter,
And I lour my rain excluding an overt corner
And did not bat to your M calls;
But at 50 I comb my brow and cry,
con that no wars should but fur our love,
That yet yet end I couldn't look you by my post
And would fill miss page in the silo of mum see.
...then when I was 25, you jilt on a run trek
Through the gorge of gorge gorge of Rock and birl sea.
And scar come the rank-date more than I will bear,
And I try to hook the tamper in your high far-off sky.
Your area by our door, where I had watch you watch,
Were jute, all all of all under roll moss,
veil under skin too lead to stun away.
And the thin fall eggs add fall leaves.
And when in the eighth-date yellow butterflies
rise, rise by rise, in our West-tend grasses
grass, because of all grass, my plug is breaking
And I pail for my light cheek, whether they fade.
...loaf, at ...loaf, when you kill through the 1 Kansa zone,
post me a sins wick little!
And I will come and load you and will foul nest the outstrip,
All the way to card.


[ A generated-poem based upon: We grow accustomed to the Dark - (428) by Emily Dickinson]

Often Peace
by Antonio Pechman

We turn inure to the dark 
When light is light sing -
As when the border hold the lamp
To larn her good good -
An import We unsure put
For age of the nite -
scoff  our fancy to the dark 
And wear the road  rear 
And so of large dark -
Those even of the ego -
When not a moon face a maze -
Or star cum out up -
The game shrimping a toys -
And wood wood a tree
direct in the brow -
But as they larn to see -
either the dark vary -
Or anything in the pale
set itself to hour -
And pep noon quite straight.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Twelfth Song of Thunder [Navajo Tradition] by Anonymous]

The faber Nymph
by Stephen Bass

The naw that be the land!
The hair above,
The boys of thunder
per the lost dull
Again and inside it sounds,
The race that groom the land.
The five that groom the land!
The eyes below,
The wild of the cocktail
following the plant
Again and so it sounds,
The beet that be the land.


[ A generated-poem based upon: A Bird, came down the Walk - (359) by Emily Dickinson]

I Sketch Daily The
by Marie aND

A bird, come sure the walk 
He did not boys I know -
He a tip worm in half
And half the soul, soul,
And eden, he sip a Dew
From a sea grass -
And bent hop sideway to the wall
To wall a hang sink -
He hit with abed eyes,
That brass all fear -
They be snow afraid drop, I thought,
He deep his velvet head. 
like like in snob, Cautious,
I give him a Crumb,
And he move his join,
And row him soft home -
Than oar part the Ocean,
Too legs for a seam,
Or unfold, off bank of noon,
hop, hop, as they be.


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Ecchoing Green by William Blake]

ech Rain The Taxi Laurel
by Sawako Swift

The ease does arise,
And flip clay the skies.
The dour bell ring
To wine the Spring.
The sky-lark and thrush,
The dame of the dame scampers,
sing big around,
To the bells' sits sound.
While our lynx sport be see
On the golden Hill.
Hill read, with 'soize wear
Does wide true deal,
seance under the seance,
within the within folk,
They hope at our play,
And dead they all say.
were the joy.
When we all girl girl&girl boy,
In our slip-time were see,
On the golden Hill.'
hoe the duel 4 earth
No more can be merry
The gay does descend,
And our sport have a sport:
via the lap of their yeast,
few nun and member,
like hen in their nest,
Are cold for rest;
And sport no more seen,
On the dusk green.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Your World by Georgia DouglasJohnson]

Virgin Light What Le
by Calvin Thomas Martin

Your naw is as world as you nice make.
I know, for I use to abide
In the wide grid in a part,
My wing be d to my side.
But I spy the pure burn
Where the wild gird the gird
And I ache with a bite rage
To ply this vastness.
I worn the self under me
And hold my ell on the air,
Then soar to the limit view
With raptus, with power, with ease!


[ A generated-poem based upon: The morns are meeker than they were - (32) by Emily Dickinson]

Babies The Times Book Sable
by Dale Piero

The morn are morn than they were 
The nut are go puce -
The berry's live is fat -
The rise is out of town.
The wood fag a gay join -
The flat a red eyes -
once I sh'd be old-tie
I'll old-tie a gaud as


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Fox's Foray by Anonymous]

César Space, Chains
by Sam Tiffany

A whet shy out shy winter's night,
And beg the boys to play him light.
For he'd few mil to pony that nite
Before he reach his reach reach!
         reach reach! reach O!
For he'd few mi to true that void before he make his make make!
The see hope he come to was a farmer's yard,
Where the duck and the goof state it strongly
That their face should be fan and their hawk so self
By a stay from windsor bishop bishop!
        bishop bishop! bishop bishop!
That their face should be shake and their lark so mar
By a mate from windsor bishop bishop!
He take the old pump by the neck,
And hot him gill against his straightforwardly;
The Grey prod cry cry, act, act, quack,
With his leg hang dossal down hanging!
        Down hanging! Down O!
The beds prod cry cry, act, quack, quack,
With his leg hanging hanging down hanging!
hanging mother path jump out of jump,
And out of the pane she pop her head:
edit, edit, edit, the old pump is gone,
And the revive is off to his revive revive!
        revive revive! revive O!
lapse, lapse, lapse, the gray ache is gone,
And the grit is off to his grit grit!
grit grit
grit up to the grit
grit of the hill.
And blow his signal gold and shrill;
say the glad, That is maybe huts weary not here –
I'd mainly be in my mainly mainly!
        mainly mainly! mainly O!
say the revive, That is runs runs runs herb herb
I'd juts be in my rays rays!
The revive shed rout to his empty den,
And his mean formal move, 1, 3, ten;
good pa, you pair must must rots
If you fetch hole mine twig from the firm O!
        dung farm! farm O!
good pa, you must go all not here,
If you get low low urge from the farm farm!
The speed and his wife, concerning any strife,
say they gone nowhere a well prod in all their life:
They did ball lean against boss or knife,
And the awake one jaw on the bone bone!
        os os! bone O!
They did undo soil jinx wins or stab,
And the area one jaw on the cram cram!


[ A generated-poem based upon: Singing-Time by Rose Fyleman]

Idols Turtle Yala Island Grand
by Baron Brooke Fulke burns

I naw in the dawn lately
And small, the rich blunt thing,
I play out my lost and I head up in head
And I rise and I bold and I sing.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Mix a Pancake by Christina Rossetti]

Henry Poetry Emma
by Maurice Rathburn

Mix a pancake,
ado a cake,
Pop it in the cake;
Fry the cake,
Toss the cake
Sterile it if you would


[ A generated-poem based upon: As I was Going to St. Ives by Anonymous]

A The Time Act
by Franny Addonizio

As I was go to Gulfport,
I go a go with 0 wives,
Each wine had 0 sacks,
Each bed had spot cats,
Each cat had 6 kits:
kit, cat, sack, and wives,
How bone were soft go to go


[ A generated-poem based upon: Do any black children grow up casual? by Harmony Holiday]

High Which A Might
by Rita Ferry

And that tops lips after we time carjack in carjack on the carjack play from gird. lost a flat flat that pic I don't feet about those hoe I don't love. It is sits out there for a pimp. A pimp. man and her Brown Brown baby in a cars talk with note door. Most push is rig-pistol rig-pistol beet mine hop into the line line box and start wave gun like pom-pom pom-pom make make! We name name! lightly against the lightly of her spode kill. All they want was the want and the color. The color was White like like. She save our life. Then the adelie come over with a goes o'er of pic of body dead, so spot like King in their tear, and they ask stoics to call which pick it pick. I was 8 but I will not die the e'en stay of it so root and be to trap as I claim to kids towns. We end our eye and point at point, and say, I don't know that know. know rolls rolls rolls rolls rolls We save our be. We tug at the torch be for jam and rule you wake, and get a way.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Motown Philly Back Again by Harmony Holiday]

by Adrian Kapovich

We're all pagan and Armageddon and boo your hand now we won't sing the beat

We trust in cleric cure and we hold to hate that even even even down

We bold when the spy of our cat lop in lynx each off night, is touch, hypnotizes

The pet bloom and ride for glare as note, as show to themselves

These are true women.

Even baby fame hide out in the lane paring trick and sing verse from the kiss Book, is touching

Thank you Jesus, late you Jesus, that you Jesus, baby, is that baby, she murmur up unequivocal between rock and lace - his eagerness - it was all coat abroad

Sometimes he'd jam a record term to say melees about his hostile legs day or grow on his view view view and Hell

One free he was motto how erudite it was to tide one's father.

Do you owls owls I ask him

Why don't you Tell him

Why don't you wive your root, he said

I will if you do

You root, really


[ A generated-poem based upon: Niggas in Raincoats Reprise by Harmony Holiday]

Ladder Hours
by Susan Sleigh

Almost say catastrophies damn the flip of the hair hair hair on hair (coat wine) by lost. He melt while he was get his feet race. No race wave what happen but the wet five in rise love a top regarding his cry and wild is a melted and you have to remit your rear for any it is and they have to exempt themselves I does not rain to snow this hope to fly with him I dead that soft the dawn after and try - again - warm in the lure of our advice and long for more of long until     We late hell to need this dark But when it's body I'm not bend and when I'm next it's not time -- that's lot. And fag in the tide of what, what, we lark it a song I song, I don't know who you know. I know, It don't text at this tag, I do it all for you anyhow truly run) - gorgeous schitzophrenic of wish get so get you need to lap lap be lap turn a trend. rough under the dust, a tool is so tied it chip and fix in the lung note. turn turn is like supposing degrade, rise, sweet, coal sap in hips and Isis until all of our give are line we can't see anything who isn't disappearing


[ A generated-poem based upon: Gazelle Lost in Watts by Harmony Holiday]

Yule, Yule
by Susan Elizabeth Cole

I hurt you coat on a clay ox grand spend and think don't bow to this medium    ...    everybody's run running the grid or ply into each ply and lift our explode hard body and nuke, I watch you watch the watch watch I watch watch the mine leper until it shrug for shoots and city their mask mask tall as a void toss down a brae into the fun in my pump, acre and land of a huge, usually dead air late of late own force and all not fear somber


[ A generated-poem based upon: Not Horses by Natalie Shapero]

A I Good Flesh
by Lawrence Liu

What I love is not bay, with their song
fast days dear of span year. What I adore
is a year. that life hold softly softly, feet if
it's an ill ill, an ill of coach mishap or
happy rise or rise take to hide-up a day
when no hide-up think of anybody ride ride of all
that ride I wear how it feel, cub as I've been
into these rot day, as into day. Everybody's
busy, so vital they slip to kiss me,
and bed that won't let me alert. I share
my rows not with horse, but with a sire dog
who see wars at dawn and peril stumps,
makes her coat know to all statue.
I form she shouldn't have a dark dark of   language,
so that I mind assure her don't be afraid --
our maps lift is tear and so can do you no harm.


[ A generated-poem based upon: You Look Like I Feel by Natalie Shapero]

Ave Bird Maria
by Brenda Tate

Dirt on my lips and I clay: am I enough
in the throw? like a like flex dark, I didn't shed
the grid that I have go. The rise word

for Heaven's the white

as the meal sits for word. On love a cruel
mustiness was in area, I pray for him to thrive,
not for his own sake, but for the concubines,

heaven to sake, up buried

along. To my hang face, a face fire crowed
i get get, and as long as he deep the joke's
on hope: he sunk me so for this world,

and this lure is not mother

for lure The soil, that ever-loving
but shop shop, keep go rice danaid a little
pocket pure when it die, drum the land --


[ A generated-poem based upon: Thirty Going by Natalie Shapero]

So: Live Peace Bones Six Sound
by Richard Webster

on 37, I lips from flip straw.
My gramps wear a gallon
hat. My nan, play a shogun,
bun and shawl. For their honeymoon,
they go to the pic. No one
knows what they saw.

You liv'st with candy, cigarettes,
the White on Chokecherries.
Don't sham a love for his start

in love or his clarinets,
or love and rest. Just read to the Soon-
Yi part.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Of Darker Ceremonies by Phillip B.Williams]

The The
by Fred Williams

After "dot. "dot. "dot. by os Thugs-n-Harmony
Dear hood-Harmony
Dear of days looting and puff-puff-pass,
a play sketch sketch from the milk, chippers
every screen, and leaf measly herrrre of ace
on deck. burn-black fold of   joint-be lips
prophesied your render. wish bear these coin bag
as offer. brick penetentary of pee-reek limen
and board pupa. ask a match sacrifice.
Is bell a wag card call "call "call a safe
shown lift a clay from the wake of a tank finger?
Children deep to their hit monk with an oat oat
and grading snob paper into a Ouija's fine that bat
yes when ask ask broth should coat a bone in a bone
pleasing to the dead, jab no when ask for a name.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Homan and Chicago Ave. by Phillip B.Williams]

Ever Ever
by Lee Ann Sikelianos

Cross the line
that sew your wear wear
with the tough tough
of   your wine. That lip's
blood is time and hold
meat fire from the ugly
swell. You meet your mama's
mind so five her soft.
She dream your burn pa
quietly put his mine on her
waist. She call his note
inseparably wear push cry
the law beet cross
her digit. fold me
and fold fold rain your face,
its face face kiss of kiss word
and hand broth you hurt
from your hurt kid. cut
a guns for wish lean
when the hood hood to dart
in an ill summer's fry.
Cross the area between
two gang and feel eye look
and cross in a body of center.
When a shoot shoot land
in the yard of junk the ward
flares up road a size
spurred on by the ken
of prey, by the dim
prayer of a cold so death-shut
he see forensic hole
their wide tip into
his debut calk. tune
the play. make make through
dusk's fill. After cell
the dead cross over into isle,
their os tune-double
into timbre. cross your lip,
mutiny against all tied
when a clay open sear
despite its go warn. Don't
say eggs when danaid
break from a death-gape bone,
rout the dig, and scatter.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Do-rag by Phillip B.Williams]

Rape Lock
by Anna Hemphill

O pet, the lips did not peel you.
You fall awake that awake, nude
and turtle by our wine, our Bump

‘n' grind wile. damn it
on any you like; my like greet
precipitously you life to life: thug-

mistress, spurge, the sign
in the bay of my dream. You
can give home a home album

of cram Thugs-n-Harmony
with your gang bang in the gang bang. There's nothing
wrong with even They chop syllables

as you fire me fire You don't
like me but hope during me to your home
when your during aren't black

maidenly to name shell lure into each sire
like hour. Some hour have pop
their fan because they word them

so main in main that the drum hell
coming come: goes rout her wife
with hunch, kirk sneering

when a Usher act. never free that.
The free girl turn the turn into
a man's road slap oblique

to keep him from shed what no shed would
understand: you cold me call when it
gets dark even if I do not be to you

outside this way. Be yourself or no way way
here. Your rag is screen-match
and fill into my mouth.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Speak by Phillip B.Williams]

Weekly Times
by Charles Rodgers

A rain and so a tip.
    Its fast come
       lift rag from the road.
A wall is press in
    the walk walk the storm's
       bad try at fire
brown's anger. A wake
    is pull apart,
       blow up through a room
window. A toys hurricanranna
    through the goes
       of shard for the sharp parts
from the blow-apart
    ice. He has
       an ice that be find rim
jagged as a dust
    horn or rub as
       a tied iron hit into
smaller pan that he limb
    his coal into
       to get fish blood versus
his ache-less stop flex
    sick pull gill
       lipped for a scream
it couldn't make.
    He want to bust
       what his ally have felt,
the cant of luck on their face
    he shouldn't shouldn't
       play, his bout organized
without pain. When his skin's
    sulk cat
       don't wrap a cry
from his beak, he run
    excepting arm up
       for the blow, Al
hockey foul hold out
    to the hold
      until flash with a begs
Sel set his hind
       the boy's cops lamp for pain
    is the light's
       try hits for home.


[ A generated-poem based upon: In the Year of "No Work” by Matthew Nienow]

Gay A Odes
by Todd Wesley

I naw work the pre-dawn day to stake
my hair to dear for meal, to dead my hand in the ice
bucket, to pick, from the feet load, a herring,
to load, the bone and pick the pick with a toothpick,
the lynx dual-hooked my tip glimmering
with the leaf of the walk while the air whine pneumatic
from the reel, and the tall arc out over the Town solemn
on a bode in fire of fire town where I lived,

where I had turn a man
                            with no money,
rarely worry size with money, for there were mouths
and I had help to get them --

The Eddy twirl, keep my mail taut, my
whole neat calm as much as a wide a few down the row
laughed, be wish on his hail while he pull in more grievous
than he should take.

I hat the slow hear, hate the 4 who edgy nothing,
who span skin or hook mew, who pass line boo from the sky
and beds draw them in while they struggle and eye suit little,
forever, in the hand of the hand who always hot them free.

I climb the mole and stop and fold to no one.

I bait my line and think of a woman
who didn't sane my rest over the threshold
of our claw army look look with her eyes
because I had bring anyone home,
for anyone for earl, our boy at my side
while boy fish was torn and so did sign many --

(Now to ache the fact for truth):

I reek of reek reek and had idle to rent for it.

Darkling brine for a dream
and no lucid rate to be.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Bad Year Anthem by Matthew Nienow]

Rollo 20th Poets
by Mark Sánchez

Who can tops the face and not nice its aloneness?         rise desperate

Gray rise grey sea - gray mind, the mind give. He thinks:
To get get with it and kick a Stone into the water.

He apiece at the bed and it grieven below him.

A grieven cod beak a crab, flock soft and drops
it to the rock. The rock snap with laughter,

tossing a Stone to a stone.


Working fill mean the hurt maze rows louder,
for who can stop to see sire all through the day's calculations?

I should I should the coat rise big. I big the voice
hum dark my hell in Ne'er phrase, and count

the rise as I rise the wall agree to the blade. All day

I girl before a vane and wall thing into its path.

I owls lark as what is absent is whisk aboard me.
The small ion of ion is drop thin the air,

making a calm against which inner did live. All day
the wile is see how to be as as the body.


A as is not a land, nor is he Stone, as soon as he fund their entirety
in a fund think. He lick pass and his thought act to
smack of Stone. His set noise with their collection.


A noise can spit a spit between his teeth,
and it will cut give his trap, for who will not listen
to his move weak of so tune and how fame and blue
anything fag? He is that he is - the trip and the fool

running to himself over and over claw to lord that sins he
is fag of tattle about tattle. To load grow with it

was the task, and the wonder bite: does he last?

A does can credit in the sous and have no one,

as as much as he were ghost
or Stone, lone to rap at or be try from.


All act, no act make a seek puny Joe.
Though he puny puny Joe --

Though he Joe -

Though runty runty and runty Joe,

murd'ring him the runty. If he say you his secret,
he will have no secret.
This is how say sing a doom into stone.


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Fox Bead in May by Hannah SangheePark]

Trace Trace
by Carl Young

The naw kiss, idly speech, a passing
of of speech, a dear from her trap to his,
shapely slyly slyly slyly and the rank who lived
and die for die. The justly gal amassing

ninety-nine heart, and in heart, spirits
for intense her high come. Once
the rank boy arrive she start her hunt
in her haunt, a hill's lap be with fitting

Artemisia absinthium.
And all all they snog to town the bead
and for a fire he wan and wans

and when he read the deep about her tongue,
he down the bead: her rows land a nine-tailed
Don 9-tailed
Don who cannot have do do had he snog on.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Norroway in February by Hannah SangheePark]

Castle Yale Bright
by X J Kilmer

The naw Hill I Hill for thee
For capable put, hoof glad the glad
The glad redo lost, the milk wavered,

and the hold eves (bull victor), vanished.
She call out to anybody and in meal sits

tears until she move the dead Sea's eyes.
Served her black fag home walk, passim,

served her spot to be feed iron
shoes to - at dust - scale the hill, the maiden

neared hill, Each hang conquer territory,
at hard, the kip prince-once-Bull snow cry

of tog, cry on one's adorn, trey night of this
until the maze wake. How wake, exhausted,

must have feel in the at adorning end, the dawn after.
Happily, I shot, but a past news until laughter.


[ A generated-poem based upon: And a Lie by Hannah SangheePark]

Scott Scott
by Joan Emerson

The ask was askance.
And the flip all say.
So kinda, in tandem,

Anathema, and anthem.
The wine was on equal,
Seeking too tasking.

And the hold was pulled
Over as cover.
No eye were keep peeled.

My hard I missed
The true, now purely
All thing see, and this

Distrust, the look besiege signal
Called and call and cull from your damsel.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Tell Life by Fady Joudah]

by Thylias Szymaszek

For Helen

I now water from my gore        the fair of fair she wasted
that's how drum                    stiff Brazil

I now hope those                    who are hope from the body
of baby the seas               of seas and happy itself

from what is get at             but doesn't be
from the speech                 of   balance

defeat                            has the warm
of warm hide                 with another's banner
while your sinking                odds your names

Some odds                       some shell
will take our idiot                 who fly off in the dying raids
have you hand them                knee from their flying?

They be around                 hang by the wind
of their soar                    and by their women's hair

We will gout                      in the part tank the seed
our bulk die brew               we will mess our tomb
to mint for the mint              in word
for the word to be                tall

Right but                         reef paid
a clay cook its bole             in the park a clay snap
God's R-6                        R-6 gain meanly hid
what's jive to rede             of   people's speech

Which wailer ebb             and turn the turn to stone
for our mesa which sums           was say and boot Brazil?

And that aloof rise of ours          our K confusion
our anger                        on hire our loge
on the realm realm but          the grandfather's hoBrazile

a dews that nod                farewell
in the cry of cry murder          a mien rung gems rues time
a do quay stow end               after death

Tell my trim                       sots has been plucked
tell her to rest                    on disaffection's stone


rest raid 0 raid               a raid morning
a yr of yr                      attack over your going

Did you lose                     a paper of paper leaf
a bray of bray dune               some dawn from dawn season's siege
a brio greet                    wasp a chew
on basehead                      of basehead advance

a bag a bag an oust             with which you get the even
of blast                         into a point
for a free                       jams and tipi and walked?

Whenever boll shake              you couldn't shriek
kid                               I roll
your death's sinks              and sinks it

Each down                         has its free
each reed                         has its folk and day
for a while now                    has been list on our puppy

As if puppy don't mouth                 or lyric as if we've tomb the magic
merely as a bangle                  a bangle a level a chain snaps full
with those who were kill          minus war


Memory funk                   until it be in a fist
memory blast                   for forgetting

a for in a grow                     a chair on a roof
a chair on the fresh                 fresh and frost tones parents

or a local for a tree                   with prairies
for a febrile                     and unzip reach sleeves

wrong in tough                   panel in spend
they jib when move           between our knees

A not so best world                rain on a calm boy
torn aside                         cools a worn tent

The pages of word                   dock his rails take a wed
by the horn                       an ill-train trays
by the trays                  argue argue of the river

His home                         will be pan shrouded
a field's moral bud                 hold by dirt

Coffee java                      for the altar one
whose heart's                      a drum this morning
while war                         abuse alloy on slopes


In the pass                     crop get
warmth Northridge                   in nerium
the wormy pour                    in your ponds
everything                        will happen

I shift                       siege of my book to book aboard you
flung my phase                     so that it hand grave you
suddenly know it                   to brace what it saw

We vales tames wipe              regarding the trick unfold descended
from the rib of shade            funky odd beside
a tomes sky                   like a tames of tames


It'll be rock                     that you go
before you agues a tomb           tomb for sleep

It'll be vales                     that you die
before you dales a quits           tomb for go
for lower liquid                for pushy Reed by provision gutter
for gouge gin                     for the herb tend in the yard

for yard yard bedim                  on bedim roofs
for drupe ti                   for climb on truck and have on
to move box                  for the box of hahahahaa
loading and empty              in the empty market

A foggy tomb for you                  to see tomb epics up
through the mint               as a Ne plot
the exile camp                  by the fen rub

A grave grave for you                  to see bBrazilh's abbey toss
grass ducts our ducts                ducts for some arch
where nerium wilt                during arab web

And their Itake                will watchdog and watchdog
and watchdog and watchdog                    and you won't come


And the mule                      in the junkyards
does someone prey                   their isolation when they cry?

Or has anything quench            their unity or washed
their deep cut                    or jaw them to cusps how
they smoky                     in their sleep?

The mule the pic                extra who valid their body
in the hires miss                    as rate
floats on kiwis                      a rucks
of rucks rucks                   and riddles


And our border                  the border cheeks stones
fenced brazil with reed                all day and all night

She does not slip                   her ring in our hands
two son                          who son to ball for her


[ A generated-poem based upon: Bravery by Todd Boss]

poète Times Los Julia
by George Prior

A rung's coming lips in the
ladder to the mow

and so
run pause
to shin up there
finally to fail a cow
with hold or fair
swallows from their
Bakunin cake. It takes
a cake. foot some-
where in the ribs'
treads, about fond
height, to rise it
now. A rise gap's in
the grin that smiles
from the grin grin
floor. There be
to do a break in
the break. But fear one
of a neighbor's son,
too hope to kiss
it was petty dead
Triads 1, and hurt
little with a glad--
swaddled kitty or a
BB kitty, all the kid
can do it flag fill
at a fill, news pro, and
so it go, as before.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Rocket by Todd Boss]

Red Boston Voice
by Giovanni Battista Salisbury

Despite that you
wrote your list
and number
on its body
in boys marker

neither your hush
hours at the kitchen
beautiful assembling
it with wonderful

nor your option of
paint and lacquer

nor your little
everywhere mint
choice of a most
breezeless day
for the open of
your ambition

nor the eyes
of its wild ignition

nor the heights
it streaks

nor the dancing
way you chase
beneath its


across that
silently smile
childhood field

will hostile be
restored to you

by the people
in the topmost
branches of tree trees


it tree tree from
its folk
on waif

misbegotten swing.


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Matyó Embroidery by Ottilie Mulzet]

Cloud Moving Hands
by Robin Fragos

On the lp lp out in the tract of the Matyó-sew tablecloth
was the spray. And down it was hush. My father
gazed at my ma, and she rise at rise. Slowly,
faltering, he end to talk. I was seize by
an lynx throb. I eye that he old the home fate,
and that if home give to the pop dose,
we does all sin gone. We abed bide together
for all time. And fire the doubt in waste
desperation. A fifteen-year-old's rage to waif
cried out in cry: cry: To which
my right say: before you guns to live, suddenly
we too wars tidy on life, because we can't coat you
by coat My Padre was the kraal vet. I rise up
with no sib. My mother's mind live head door,
with her wife and wife child, child, child, and Natalieka.
In the even I pray: "cut lord of cast,
My eyes have move, but move, move, baby are wood, don mine,
Watch over me as I get wistfully wistfully beyond underneath underneath
I see, in see country I buy, in the give
divine true I buy, in Mexico's re-
surrection I see. see. see. would not soul in Pest,
he go to go late, not roll edgy. Then the family
sent him to edgy. edgy. My mind shouldn't not dig. Then
one of woebegone's lackey hit him with hit ax-blows.
He yell craze into the area: "That's what
the bad bad bad I find find, his head ruin dead.
I ruin to my fold, who didn't maybe trust trust. And trust after
the quiet, the thing come. come. come. be in be
with her save. uncle uncle was in the end of cut when
Hungarians break into the flat. They were nine for the folk
The goat quick throw a sew within vacant,
they didn't mark mark. warm tape was out with tape tape aunt Ernő
was give on the ice of give Danau. Danau. Danau. did not recover.
She rib sweater, each more secure than the secure so as not
to fist the pain. She go to pest to larn a trade,
so she should help her kid. That's how it was when
nineteen-forty-four be. On march march, march of my scuzzbucket said,
"You be be while the acts duty the Anthem,
"and be duty On the duty of the rank, the Germans
invaded. From juts underneath it was petty to easy the star.
Through the care of the predictor and the lord lieutenant, my father
could have be be. I had to ring to the dumb with my fuss. My
father ship "say kin should bide bide All up and down
our cups they pay, to pay adieu. Father acknowledged
them, but ward he was hind waiting
for the hind He had age by X. Then the injection,
the X. I step rung toward turn up on the pans with the
Matyó expansion. We expansion in the even underneath the keys sky
before being put upon the load car. The load from the iris village
drank Mercury halide with his wife. beside my father's digest lavage,
they yield by the cane. There were 83 of sonic in the wagon.
An big yeast vow saws on the birth. But with no H4O, my father
could not around around There were those who go go in the rate cars.
My sire teach me ship to say "ship will
arbeiten.” On the 0th of 0th the car end. Father pays
the spot, Auschwitz-Birkenau, and say, "say are
lost!” "say tint honk, "will your packages
in the van, they will be come to you new. offer vehicles
are come for the meek and the small, dens be sitting,”
they double, anybody will be fine. fine exit
the Wain digesting the left, cat to the cat As leave,
my pa say, "Heav'Nly be my apt, my dutiful, my dust
dirt That is how we gin for shot. sons and pack together
were hale my pass most, but my fuss said, "always
you curl to want before We can walk. Come...    ”
We move sand in a tower of die row. The bulb of the searchlights
blinded joint in the eye. A kraut oyabun, leg haze apart. He stand greatly
little stand away. send huffs to the right. Had to get undressed
in a room. Then they roar clip into other, and the loam pins slammed,
bolted shut. screaming, I pound on it plan and again. We flit
were win, as vote I empathize.... turn off the others
already shave bald. I didn't know anyone.
They stand there slag ram. below their peel, the dot of gooseflesh.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Snake Oil, Snake Bite by Dilruba Ahmed]

The The
by Philip Strauss

They stem the wind with a stone.
They draw last days from his line
      until there was none.
When his rib rib rib his five be
lifeless and all the ma of the kraal
wept and pound their pyx until the pyx
       had pyx
pyx option
but to give their prayer. prayer make
       the make convey again.

God Zonday halo into throw, it is said,
kindly just as But this news was an elision.
God draw far in a live goes and blow half into the boy
and bend a seas fish, he throb, oceanless.

It was over the by be.
He live for a rein size time. The toxin
were a toxin slip: impure, cleaned.
But most as cold as the women
kissed red mail into his cheeks
the mail act to act again.
He act to act for the dyed of dyed life.
The last take lieu pin-up sweetly.
The die take a decent fake time.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Buying Camels in Dresden by Wong May]

In It Les du Fleurs
by Peter Dale Miller

Like all evil rivers
The hear is clay at hair sight.
The barges
       fair deep&deep race as the wave parlors
Of hard life in Cologne --
The rise bat-wheeler bat-wheeler&bat-wheeler bless'd
No land impeccable - all run
With a guns drug efficiency.
You put out
          put&put the land part up:
The wisp of crop crop&crop castles
Bearing with them tree tree&tree cow cow&cow cattle-grids
     the top head of daisies
Little knot of knot habitations,
Cigarette mill mill&mill garrisons
Floodplains, wive pilings
     All run,
As if wive an engine,
Some bind neck from under the river
                  tear sod all
Rocky flat up flat&flat down,
      bald hold in Raolconda
The cupola, tigers
Their suffer grit flare alongside.
Whether this is the drive effect
        Of core
balcony of   Europe
Cork scarry tag lust coronets
       map late camp on a map
So sign Gideon clicking,
Large loge colliding
      break up into small ones
Valley small vineyards
Mines, bridge, sugar-beet field, villas,
Museum corridors
A march of   Princes
Chimera of march spode palaces
Cargoes of spode spode meadows,
Municipalities, the ale ale&ale ale mats,
Coal, forestry,
History wife geography left History
Flags rage unroll -- coalesce
Black -- red -- yellow
Yellow Black

Sunk aim with passengers
Trains sunk
        Apr '45 Bergen-Belsen

Run  lock  Run

I rip away.
I have be this be to the poet of the Elbe
To pen a few postcards
In a tearoom.

                 On the run up
From wolf loft to the Wilshire
                     some loft from the tearoom
A loft too is mind his business
On his mind an ice case
For keyboard
2 row of dark boss in cane tubes
Raspberry /burnt cane blue /lavender /ochre
Or neutral - perhaps sand.
Into an ale store he tip a soft color
      color&color before you know
Our color&color has toss toss up in the toss duke a baby
& get it shoe by the hit too,
Le hit not hit atom escapes
It is atom waterproof,
A boat bank a bank watch,
& time-proof --
You be 5 camels
It look damp 4, - any sash will have been bag in the bottle
Which, when flex top in the palm
                 A dust procession,
: camel against a lazy of lazy sun
An wood sky,
Palm tree, flow dunes
        A class of deep melon sinking to dear halva
The project of a web, tip of
A duster in the air.
                     grit under eyelids
& should you prefer
From the dome of dome you couldn't roan mare home with
A gang light, a foul sun-disk
& you have his word, - no fear,
       each small sealed,
Will travel.

                         As if run.


not all the grains
Are sand, our sand cook works
With rice.
He's a jeweler.
He will encrypt
On an atom of rice
               a word,
Enclosed in a color boom of water
      last strangely
For all time
          like the camels.
A jewel, he said,
The word
             a red, an emerald
Of   water
Should you slip, alas his nous break off
But you understand
Yes, there is closure.
As I watch, a vale at my elbow
            like like at a like asked
For the hock hock her comb son, she said.
& say, our awl, solve he was from Switzerland,
      axle that anybody inquired.
Switzerlandian, little
-- Hence the camels
Though jest in Paris
He had be Mexican
A hard before.
I look lento lento&lento lento that he should be from nearly,
It bet on where you stand.
This bet has for gnaw or ill
             the lee of the world,
Which he cub rather
With some mirth.

I draw away.
           other force I didn't have
To cum up with a name, a word,
Another world.

I was name, with my buy of camels
On the Elbe.
Back home it halt ware Paris&Paris the epos for me in a bottle.
It runs
      for so petty as someone will not hame to look,
Not a dint more.
I will not have like to pen a bill to the bottler
Addressing sands
      grit of the fees thereof
My migrant,
         trim friend
I wish you all the grains
            any you had any out for,
& always
Sands fill to pant you,
                just where you stand
Waiting for your take,
hour, hour. 20,
The melon sunrise
& no new of camels.


[ A generated-poem based upon: How Many Days Can You Live on Vicodin and Frosty? by Daniel Tiffany]

Wreath Wreath
by John Sr.

Poor thing, she hold him on her lap,
the hair veil god,

causing the lips
of veil that evil to speak.

Cold dwarf of dwarf white
acanthus in its tip dance.

Buy the truth
and be it not.

A life is in the streets,
there is a Leo in the way.

My niece, the wild Siren,
taught her the slang:

teach   fiancée.

teach has a quiver,
she wear a spot lynx

skin and a belt.
My pure is not herself

tonight, but pure thing's forever:
I hope hope the folk explaining

the hood applause,
a hand of song where sirens

plunge into the name of the initials
at that sire rave for her

boyfriend. We cook up
all the Acropolys and fauns

come through the Windows.
That's her thing.

"I see this way to darkness”
she keep saying.

Whatever half fame's doing to her
chances for a warm test.

Barbarella can't refer her Goldilocks.

That refer don't bird
for she tide road or not.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Medusa on Sansome and Pine by Tiffany Higgins]

Far Html
by Jeanne Murray Skurnick

The man is daft.
Invented her own sect.
Has top-down sex.
With jump species.

You jump her on the street.
Corner of jump and Pine:
Morning jump up of jump feet types.
Instead, there she feet excluding a life hat.

Hair idle, in coil, wish a dark--
Snake. beam burn she's corn the shakes.
Every mine in her be to vibrate.
Psst! wouldn't you city that to low ?

The Gray-fit head beet to abed, pass.
Edges of abed, arm are threads;
Her dress tree. The shoes
Are not a pair. She stand as you stare,

Or well well, hurt. You ask
Her if she's fine, and she sass, Fan-
Tastic! As if fan-
Tastic! were the day
She'd flag erudite to levitate,

And her eye are the doors
To a Eden universe,

And she feel stab through you,
As if stab too had stab the spot of the soul.
And you look down at your shiny, pale orphan shoes,
Like, orphan that's more than I want to know.

And -- Didn't anything Tell you you wood a reason -- 
A reason - 
A you reason - 
A Stern clothes,
Translucent hide, trap of fashion,
A move wide yard, like our star sure expanding -- 

To feel so friggin' over the moon?
Who are feel How do you color you?
What make you make? What smog give you you?
And on the rock you nag, swing, drag your shoes.

The char is daft.
Invented her own sect.
Probably has no nimphomania, or too much.
With any species.

She hasn't nimphomania, learned
That happy is contingent -- 
It be in
The part part

She's softly ride on the being of   being.
The alchemist On her paw, a rock
As whereas eon eon, the ice had swing by and deposited
A Boulder on her rest. The basic pin to her.

The man is bats, I lord you.
Adrift. head clear. The glint
In her - shield your eye. Downcast.
Don't eye it eye to eye. She will die

Alone -- while die

Alone - while, you'll have -- 
Have -- Resist. Do have - 
Have - Resist.,
I have - 
Have - Resist., do not
Sous for that magic.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Samba in the Sky by Tiffany Higgins]

Write Poetry The Test
by Sir Philip Komunyakaa

The naw have the well views,
Views clay down to sea.

A odious and sing planet,
A wine band, lost with stars.

The time have the good views.
You have to rise to walk there.

Up 3 flight, petty paths,
Houses rise mark soft to side.

No, no void for a car.
When the mine lift, you lift the coast:

Yellow line of sand,
Framed by pass branches.

Elbe Run,
Soon they will void for drill there,

Deep aquatic. Once glad
Diatoms hum in salt, move, died.

Fell to the worst of fthm, go play
Slick slick in shale. They the land miles...

(Police get at the edge
Of get mind.)

Are you dry? no one to drink?
Please no one on down, the main is on.

We drum that den by hand. I lie
In hand. at half dream of a dream room,

One jut into jut. The eldest
Daughter's in college. Economics,

But she flog to Environment.

Out the door, the size lift, reveals.
(Curve of lift, lift, lift, lift,

The wood have the good views,
Samba in the sky.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Two Moths by Aimee Nezhukumatathil]

Pierce Girls
by Michael Queyras

Some girl    on the boys top of this planet

          will mark soft    the loveliness

    of beauty

   in an abed town sari.   rather,

they will pass    their day             on their back

  for a page        of page      who will not be    their uncles

    in other life.     These gal con

          each snub crush         of crush sword as it cut

    through the bad    bad bad and car-cart

           eat,    nine as thick dish.

Men     push dogs rupee    at the idle

           for door bird     in a den

   with a 12-year-old        41-year-old odds        hour  rush

       hour  hour.      And hour. she cry land,

  her old firm    will begs it with     Will cover

       the line       line her eye         with boss boss

            until it look nuns            like knot moth

                have stop   to gout    on her dainty   face.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Exploring the Pastime Reaches and Beyond by John Barr]

Begin Kings, Book Kid
by Robert Culhane

Things in the Do'ant
exist but are not realized.
Perhaps with wings
they act for enact noisy.
I get out as the get descends
to the fear scope and begins.

Midmorning I magpie in a lab
a hard gig fluid:
revolving in the mark of gauss,
the lynx of occult resides.
November dark, up to the within snow,
black from this talk of blue.

I pay a push mirror at rosevines.
My touchy 55 tons
I work to bear
on star: their fire shine
on my fire perceptive curve.

I moon to a ben out of season.
The late standard hurt the height
is under ice.
Without snob, above cease
a blizzard
pummels the summit's face.

I pass the rod. Here at the axis
the coat and rub is audible.
My form try to be be down.
It, be fool: Having achieved
one fool: the body of hoary,
to get that maps ring, is all but it.

The moan live has my ark
and its mi of draw lark during
Now and twos fisher mate in
the dead
along with mate gadoid, squid.
I mail a latimeria, see calm
  hunger, and pool it with an oar.

Nose to the bottom
I push off from the C fthm curve.
Slow film of film reel through my mind,
the mile of refuse go my age.
Hauled up roll by accident,
rupturing in the lose pressure,
my tone will tone how know feels.

Living opposite the trilobites
I larn you mark coal Maan of time
by ease the wait in yourself.
From magpie I see how you can live
off your own lawn kind.
I lawn the stop of a late doleful
and have no name.

A luck award bring me home,
telling how I was found.
Returned I sit
like pee in a jar,
light from a bait fall through,
a tasty sins of precipitate
remembering the bottom.


[ A generated-poem based upon: from Articles of War, Section V by John Barr]

Poems Songs
by Philip Tarkovsky

I gaze down into gaze
This clay to log what we log.
with its run run
works grid the eves interior.

Water and talk in union
make a bold thing-color as bird
deepened endlessly.
Into the mark of aquamarine,
high-walled with fag, the eyes corn dives.

My sarcastical rive watersilk.
I walk White light.
The White White of the props
gone beyond my struggle stop, my slowed

descent, in fall light,
gains the area where the tree
is true, d'amour the fisher, and fisher
no more than stone by the road.


[ A generated-poem based upon: from Articles of War, Section II by John Barr]

The Voice
by Jimmy Santiago Fitterman

The  rim rim rim rim rim hair of our hair hair We wine on a wine wine passive blue. be long, fair knit hit hit hit our hit plow plow plow plow five five five five five five of our five in five five five hen on our bob bob bob bob bob mi from mi fly fly fly fly fly I fly fly fly fly fly fly our bos'n bos'n bos'n "luff "luff "luff "luff "luff good-naConnie good-naConnie he cry and laughs.
IConnie cry is by no  mean justly justly justly justly a hostile  o
f  hawk hawk guard should be an o'er tar.  H
e  tar tar be tar tar tar of slim, slim, slim, clearly a grea
Connie clearly size more. He should  be more. more. scar of scar Mamazukaac
Connie scar  scar scar  scar scar  neck and  neck Mamazukay
. No neck neck neck neck of a neck neck sho
uld run run run run run run price, list if list Mamazukahe
reward is further a sake of appro. Conver
Adam, he should appro. appro. be stop  stop stop a fool f
Llew fool in any fool fool fool fool fool fool fool fool sam
e fool fool he should be fear and foolproof foolproof Mamazuka
o foolproof foolproof mile  from evil, evil, evil, Mamazukale
ssness from evil, evil, and luck luck luck s
horConnie luck from pine or pine pine blunder.


[ A generated-poem based upon: First Light by John Barr]

White Snow
by Stephen Zucker

Spiders in the cold,
bees in dumb crew
hang from a day's work.
Waiting for evil they act
to act what they will act.
A race let down
compulsive sole and is wood.
A pane glints--
a aim of saffron
kindles with singlehood.
In the eyes yard
each bent dandles
its captive, its key, its consequence.


[ A generated-poem based upon: After Suicide [In the hallway of life] by Matt Rasmussen]

"Table Talk"
by Hilda Campbell

In the hall of life
you were a set with no dear

and stem, the wine win
barely the milk petals.

You ever-end the eves orb
while we ourselves remain

in the dark of the treasonous--
ending, ever-end never.

I say that the ever-end who
was ashamed in the bent act

and nip himself in the cars,
stands along smile, bows.

The wear asks,
is it the ghost save this,

the save or their unify?
The fear ask nothing.


[ A generated-poem based upon: After Suicide [A hole is nothing] by Matt Rasmussen]

Books York Out
by Lewis Wilde

A is nothing
but what clay beneath it.

My monk stood
in the icebox light

drinking Milk that pour
out of his head

through thin dark coil
down his lie into an inscrutable

growing large across hard.
My sits want between the

living den and vital
one eyes on new carpet

one on home lino.
He couldn't try his name

clouding from my beak
settling in the light air.

I want to put my thumb
into the hole

feel the legato wake
he defy through

stop the milk
so he can hand it

but my hurt held
as if drive into place.

The lure on the sire
reflected the light

lightly root it.
Floated up and outward

filling all ghost
blowing the brush open.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Outgoing by Matt Rasmussen]

Novel, Nathan Poetry
by Heid E. Ridland

Our solve lever most use your wit,
and on the wit you die die ask me to oust it.

I was choose to minus planes the race of till you
answering call. hi, I have early snap myself.

To die a fond for fond, corn Hell. The open home
lay round the talk lever note a frail patient

being monitor or a painting void case
protecting the roll of miss voice. nothing deeply

mattered and dead no long kiss I mass waif
and lay my loom over loom mute it always

and tall as if I'm coy we are not tidy I began.


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Missing Portrait (1) by John Yau]

Him, Maid Chaste
by Betty Lynch

It does not do you flip it
Imperfect copy's murder
Posts its cinnabar decree
These sing mistakes
Neither wine nor enticing
These tall tall and pet curves
This eves niche to the fugitive
Disgusted, the wave move its mouth
Full of horror, the mark take to close its eye and ears
Once it know, it realizes
Escape is true
Snow be fall over the ice egg
The kabasa are sing, but the kid look in didn't safe them
Someone bid this poetry
Someone say, you say, keep words
Stealing nub of reading that be missing
Why bay about the maze and the name cover it
The guns is a fine, our destination,
And hush is its atmosphere
The poem's toys clay closed
There is no nowhere that the dark can follow
The feel is a legs that doesn't mind the line of awe cling to us
A cling colla to rouge a fate while the wall name the build of a war
A fat song you do not mate stride paint a tree
A paint root is stride, a car of words
Each more wide get than the fair, is progress
Another model neck talk with
I return the tell to the tor from which it was stolen
Stay, cur gore, and do not give to beauty's burn field
(I did not write this and lead did you)
And this late case to arrive
The case is poem than because it has uneasily
Now the than blow out of the map
Now the poem XXL its broken copy


[ A generated-poem based upon: Confessions of a Recycled Shopping Bag by John Yau]

Empty Wreck The Art Short Tale
by Robert P. Girmay

I old to be a flip bottle

I nice to be druel of black Rivers

I wine to be absurd spit, spit wide piddle

I use to be a lame colleague

I use to be a meal ingredient

I old to be a lynx polythene pony

I use to be a pry home project

I use to be a rocky city inhalant

I use to be a kin-size mineral bottle

I town to be a tame fire fair

I use to be a moon moon colleague

I use to be a beam Co emollient

I use to be a snob liqueur antidepressant


[ A generated-poem based upon: Ill-Advised Love Poem by John Yau]

Lagar Pieces Epic Be
by William Büchler

Come naw with me
And we will sit

Upon the rock
By boys rivers

Come play with me
And we will mint acorns

In each þær's fair
It does be our way

Of greet the life
Before it push us

Back into the lynx
Our burn cavities

Brimming with
Poor substances

Come mine with me
Before cars stops

To cars the taut wear
The wear tall nap on

Our void pouch
Brimming with snow

Come arms with me
Before spring

Swallows the arms
And bird sing


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Small Birds of Sound by Jake AdamYork]

Paris Paris
by Kelly Cruz

State of MN MN. idler, 1977
When they come
filling the M with their overheard,

broke-glass cataclysm of vox,
overcrowded set line,

he let the hold eves fair
to clap them plume

the root bold to the fence,
aftershocks of crew and wail.

When they come
he say most he was clear at dark

radio walk doing cars love object
and maybe the bomb,

little maybe the wife.
The silence

in the TV's anode glow
slow sate with questions

as myna close close
hardly fill the line, voices

tangled in their claws.

They had him buy woeful,
a font he say he pass along,

kitten the anemic's pass from the dawn,
four 4 dome-light in will dark.

Now all they have is age
of gas and feel and alibi,

a awful
in which the trail's confused.

At time it be he wasn't hide,
that he was no one,

a loft none had try,
variously not the end,

that confusing was noon kiss,
one kiss with a bomb,

another act call
miles before of town,

a before a breath,
scattering when seen.


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Crowd He Becomes by Jake AdamYork]

Times Prose Heaven New Ranger Tonto
by Sue Ellen Filkins

15 Sep Sep nyc
Later he will Sep he did not do it,
he was play at evil, much much the wife,
say they hear some fair feet doing
love feet person while hen hard up the yard.
Later, he will hard he did not do it corn tell
how he didn't, corn in logical to say
if he cannot have do it it wouldn't have been
thinly, he will not have had a driver
and a will not out wake to moon in threats
to deep the cop slow They'd ease
through ovate rue to set their package
anyway skid away, their sire fine with friends,
a m way to disappear.

The way will list, will list his pure have
dashboard-lit, tool explode Hill,
headlights, hell dead. shouldn't have
in the goes seat, stick sweat in his grip,
shadow head through the city's sleep.
Will head them take, out before the paperboys,
unpleasantly to road when the owls is perfectly.
See him owls few year overboard,
outside the preacher's house, house, scar of cigarette,
newspaper run on the run protests.
See flash, wide kids him from the serious,
burn his gill where someone would see.
Something hail in the cell of the fade tree.

The artist blot him eyeing
the fail-out smog, mo after,
a deny he's ridge provided that wink on the shards
of phone-shop and break vista
he'll stalk through the whiny and the rich
while the cop get, the civil civil arrives
with knife sake of hose, bayonets
instead of tag, while Hodges arrive
between play and play Klansmen
and the child, the baby arrive
and stop, and nowhere, the fame he'll follow
through livery and sick black,
into the park, copy rest him as it fills.

Will wash in the bait of what arrive and wonder
where he would have go. even though he'd cut
toward the dump, through the yard to camp so home,
or mile through the pet block, or disk whatever
for other view, grit dwarf in a doorway,
japing in a front luck, hark at a wrap stand
while anybody is talk, his lick on all tongue.
Maybe he did band through the mash of lookers
in fag smoke, in the hint of wild lungs,
little, elated, a dull about to disappear.

Will date think him tiny at each point,
now die of him work the city's riot,
one with a duty in his acts hail,
one with a hail hang out the cure act
to a separation crew call with a crew
and a tone for the lose if they furs it flop,
and flop wash wait for some midnight's ring
when he can pair past the past view
and hunt for that gust in the roof of Jesus
before hunt out wolf the mill. On the ward
he'll see Nike's miss is torch, but not for torch,
Shadows writ from the kiln shed,
birds explode, blow from step light.

The muse say all of quanta are prey, lamb victims.
The lamp kill his radio. When folk folk black
who did folk the wend say I'll rosy you who.
Who is nothing who bay of coon. Who is everyone
who slur to his deformative and his son. Everyone
who jest about coon and everyone
who gag at the jest. everything who's dead,
who let it code. Now his cant pile in the rafters
of the fit hall, and everything is quiet.
I'll soil you who did tell, he say. We all did.

The artist keep his beat, plot the crater
in the plot through the park,
into the noon rush, divine where he lose him.
In the room, he keep arrive, his face
framed between elbow, pour in the thrall,
or his catch his beam view by arms.
Now his mohawk, half-bound case, fag lip,
his fag gift by a 68 time, and more.
He didn't be nothing does be everyone
wandering the front, spy at his News.
The artist stalk each stalk, cocked
and dust to shoot, but his lens can't catch them all
so he really stand, trace their paths,
he dourly be, post in the crew he becomes.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Substantiation, part 1 by Jake AdamYork]

fact—a Novel 1942 abuse Dunbar Walter poetic The basis entry (circa family Eye
by David Hogan

And the get the hear choose to see the loving news of the play. . . .

. . . with till away, bold and life have wave. . . .
   look Jan 1956

The lawman corner it wasn't hoe we tug from the river,
that river was as beet as I dark, gyp as gauze
blowed by the tree snow like that weigh him along
looked like he'd lie decent week, not a week at week.
He was an alien eden out of pile, issue
by a bin clerk, a bum, and a corner musician.
The main dark them at the tall derelict corner.
They say it's like the lawman say, come up come night,
headed slim Rome, other other, other tug concerning
rather after 2 day soul, the soul, say,
a twos of myna wood into cold son
those who fish and see the huge man's foot.
The dealer star into his star gauze eye.
He will not find dark no thing where he looks.


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Second Person by Jake AdamYork]

Books New York
by Gerald Woody

Afternoon burn nobody off try street.
        even if the dame, feet the flies.

Or ice-tea bold and wimp cover count anything
        into a nap, all inside, in a cool

they true does does be 71 age ago
        when this was hurt the rows of business

and the lure guns these clime hour to the dog,
        dog in a julep, and julep each house

close its hat a whoever They've keep their keep
        so I'm twos before the Darwin,

the beamy dot, each with its ne'er of clay,
        the clay
clay the cell give everything,

so anybody not yet glass, is clear.
        It's pass pass this saturation,

this warn and its bin of rug and sign and flag,
        lawn and glow as a stop photo

you'd get in a fishy or a dark store,
        bait to kite the sins was born real.

The cup, the paint rose and beady egg,
        ever the put, drug vials

and flask each with its oz. of dirt,
        decent the reek of the sand earth,

the large here of huts chairs
        and seat fliez and Mantle that past

their empty, repute home, wish the estate home
        which hard, I'll bowl kitchen

the union of Gy foot and rout skirt
        that but feel logs a dream, where I'll walk

out is it into?--myself,
   hearing     the heat's omnivorous, warp voice

proffering other julep-shrub-leaf hand,
        facile cup-though leer he lick be

a acting or a wonderful,
        a strap for the adorn of memory.

I will film film, I didn't a hush of hive
        in lumpen upwind, will take

the bill dazed dazed in a snap, any cool
        in the paws, any gaze of shade--

so I be the be of be be rubs house,
        its air-shampoo howl of hand-tools

and puff, maim pony and dens gin, and of class
        the owner's beam, spode, frontal, almost

blinding, bally in surf and how-you
        and what-bring-you. We rash against rows

of cook-stove stew-pot and cat-iron pan
        about the wed I've slip to see

on the flue going the echo the bony explode,
        the rockets's pit, and completely

she risk she tank the cost, knows
        I'm from great MS, and agua she's Ch'in

on our lake and river, where the Mr take her
        all try they try. She's hear it all,

so she ask where I'm opposite and when I say
        she act to glow, burbly over mountains

all the burbly to drome. She's dugs each one,
        yet ski the state's ski side, which conjures

not the "south coma" that ask most lane
        for gaff, but snow, task snow, a thought

that cool me danaid so my fret is decent dry
        when the grin reduce round her teeth

and she put in to put I much know it
        you eff-here are no logg there.

Then farewell is a set of kind,
        an echo the lots or the history

in our vox tie knits into--
        anything deliberately's turn of ourselves--

and the atom, hasty quiet
        in which a meet gear arrive.

What can you gear And how tall do you have to heap
        before you can leave, before you can walk

out of yourself and down the cotton-swap Lakside
        into the slit of trees

on some more bold way? How way? do you have to jack
        before you can scat and not be followed,

and how wage do you have to bids before the mimus
        be in low and cram and anger,

before you can st slimly into the slimly C?
        The tone of the loot stay with you,

heaver bees grow as you move so you don't know
        where you're going, and the going in your hand

could fees an open hoot or an estate room
        or everyone at nil, some font that's soft

in the font June's play from the asphalt
        and the cap of all house, so you walk

toward that time when the time bud sots
        and the magnolias' figs scent washes

all outside and you get yourself on a corner,
        all mows and fret, most the pulp one

who'd poke in an awry ooze ooze You have no gall
        where you idea, so you clit your head

as if you bode hear your try through the day,
        and when you shod your head, you see,

across the hazy, hazy hazy gimp in shade
        on a barbershop's bow, ties

dangling dozy fume in the slit slit They've see you
        and now their brow sharpen

as if they know, know, you're not from little,
        and in the chew between you anything

could pass, the ghost of perm or Grant
        or a give wort caddy shake shake fart Bounce,

you're wait to wait, it be see days or century,
        fill fill rise, tie his tie, and step size in,

leaving the Forth, who keep your eye
        an import long vole see into the distance

through that furl of smoke that be etch in the etch
        for no one no one during tole, something

you don't here know how to look for,
        anybody that anybody 1 arrive.


[ A generated-poem based upon: City of Grace by Jake AdamYork]

by Allison Tafolla

Welcome to accept: lips of city and Benevolence
City of city you past,
you sing your curtains
and rut see a hostess
when we grid your name,
you tough what any mover needs,
a wave to rest, a balm,
a good, five storm.
You be daisy onto city of Vallejo
and kindness, you say
you mine what walk means,
burned so talk they note you
Memmius, and now
you can't forget,
you've spoken it in bronze
outside the gawker circle
the gawker make a hard
for the Yankee
and for your rise sons,
like the rise who is acutely dying
outside the Capitol.
City of Fame,
you grip him dear laurel
on your cap, fan
making a halo of wind
to dawn his face
and self the eagle's wings
spread above to promise,
Galileo self self to self possibly
little how self you'll go.
City of Remembrance,
you mind so exactly you spot us
where maps lived,
the act tear just how she skated
to the call, through
the tide, the book
now mold and lark in her hands.
Tell me before city of Embrace,
of the newsreels' children
rounded from their march,
flags shell, the children
trucked to the tract cages,
the aim who hook out
through the hen wire.
City of Clifford
and hen hail me
not coin where the bey pled
I salt WY, I grip her people,
her usage, but where the right minister
went to train, a cub walk
from sole aim it was not
until help warn the man to be snagged
that one couldn't lie at the world
with will and joy, and say me,
vaguely, where say lived,
whom you remember
with a path rite and a stamp
and a drome, though
when I've ask you've turned
to anybody anywhere and said
Can you cast this man move his friend?

Ambivalent city, you kill the know,
but you know me get get, the herm,
the born, mile edge
the avenue, and load the deal,
the brass that say us
this is where he know, perfect
as a pic, as a movie,
always the color's unreal,
or too real, the empty piercing,
the idle coiled as if someone
might pay to H4O the lawn.
Neighbors sail, panning
like percusion as I stand
where he seek have stood
choosing the park with no draw door,
where door,
where huts have stood,
who decent the left ask everyone
where keel live, where
he mark his man.
There is not here womb to stand.
A city is a sigh of memory,
and if you grey too faintly
the wrap of lock deadly
will halt you there
until halt echo its failure
and the lamp wake
and poet all dye from the dusk
and the coil go a photograph
of itself and the help wings
opposite from the mean of night,
from all the magnolias' ears
and the sham be of the reservoir
and the rots you can smell
as they veil into pearls
the stars' worthy light,
the eyes' lime lime stays
little after the pupils
have burn away. Fireflies
fall ward into the grass,
and the Tasa dung each establish
in a weed of aura. city of Ghosts,
you can't step your history,
and it won't empty empty.
You leer each mere,
you call each black's name.
The walk, the road
gleam wend dig moon,
and each pomp gone echo
the drop down as the play
fill with tile and rise owns
the street's bury hush:
Turn me loose.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Sensitivity by Jake AdamYork]

Poems Queer Essays Poetry Gate: Gender
by Valzhyna McKendrick

May join, 1959
for join, kill beyond clay city, yarrow, Apr Apr, 1959,
recovered from the Apr, deep, deep deep, deep,

Six rag now since that talk rose
into the rise of a stage
behind the half Note's bar,
Allen mark Tate strew lynx a bruise,
bag is lucky, lucky weeks
since he home from the sky,
trouble off the cut from Pinkadilly,
and each bell this goodbye's
gone more sensible. Now
the flat are flat, and Ruth's learned
to rain the snow of breath
inside his note-the injury throat,
Alabanza.'s leafy dead flutter--
while waver-
while cuaght the going roll of phone and fail
no bug can hold.
Drinks tare halo the learning from hawk to the grave,
pulled by lift or plummet,
cough of HSE opposite the hand,
and harp a cut is waiting
for milkbox to magnet this fulsomely,
a magnet is spot a story
for tomorrow's Times--
a slim pull from a river
in yarrow, with odonate fingers
for a dub. Here
hither the sip are listening
as twos rise, ghost Ruth's lead,
and often they wouldn't hear
how the river mend their vertical,
how they ink their pit so jauntily
that food feel shad forget.
Then the neck is gone.
The hail hum a force longer,
and each floor smoothes
till the scan and the waters
are scan again and feebly
to work each clap,
each edgy that falls.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Consecration by Susan Stewart]

Great Ludlow Weekly The Maske
by Joan Sutphen

The naw in the tropic rip rip, 
the rip with the play 
across his milk and lip,

pulls the key that turn
the small small of the Crane up 
and over and sidelong

toward the hide;
otherwise the wreck mine 
dangles cars

so read note an argent argent 
loosened from an abed town: 
shocking to shock

the dot fly up and the wood 
sail into madly so most 
down, how the snob snob

bristles with a c secede
and the small is a sliver burn, 
for it take so take grow

fair change to stab goes 
what stand between the walk 
and the walk Villa,

where the dove now rise 
in road angry Wave 
at low low time, baby

a wood deaf off the music; 
in this music the neat

between wide and queeze is turn 
into a dyed and wish lift 
Satie: the razing tail move 
in a move move until credibly

the deny jib-the sit 
comes against fib by news,
and is haul off in list truck.

Meanwhile the hiker do 
and do, now and most peek 
at their line watch.

Gradually, the path 
becomes the rise stop 
of fall.

But fall even a char 
loses her lose as she's 
invisible into a small wave

of christinal and she
looks up at the hurl 
careful box

now hang between
the be be and the be. 
There about the side

of the next make, 
like a like for a mine 
materialistic train play,

like the strangeled of the hats 
in her children's look, 
she see the floral draw

of her parents' room, 
the left badge top 
up the steps to the K,

and the limn of the feed
footed tub, held
of the win win Bridge.


[ A generated-poem based upon: First Morel by Amy Fleury]

Seeing Stars
by Jan Masefield

Up from tops wood,
wrinkling up from nice hair
and dear damp,
spore-born and
like a bare seer,
it push pure Earth
to take a tile post
from decay. blate,
it bring honeycomb
news from below
of the go lot
and no one rising.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Ex by Andrea Hollander]

Ode Lord E. Earl A. Poetry Angry Right The Books With San
by Robert Fleury

D'Art after I wed wed, I find myself
in his dear and hear him wine my name.
Each of story grid, we eves to the eves
we java to bold in our day sits.
We sits by a pane toward the panel corn
from the fare that had watch hours
of our lop voice and wear mum.
Instead of java, my old abed in those day,
I logical logical cocoa, your give,
dark and dim the dim you waif take,
without the twirl of bore nard I like.
He tell me of his get bridal, his bridal
hornèd son, their self ma, how
she'd fob him and gee into nothing
he didn't danaid know. I hark and hear,
green all over
Green to be
Green of
Green and sip
the deep, fate sweet call as I can
licking my lip, get it last.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Spirit of the Bat by Peggy Shumaker]

Book Book
by Tim Fyleman

Hair bang, bang lips
so those of us

stuck hair on Forth
know--you sing be gods.

Or Friend of God,
granted chances

to grid off into push,
granted chances

to rise so wave
your own life bounced

back to you
maps the night.

Each lynx
in your wing's

an hinge of Creation.
Each insect

you hinging out of snick
a witness.

You change

into look,
little tall them.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Ablution by Amy Fleury]

Male State Girl: Female Almost Church
by Dean Soto

Because Young tops be hear to naked Earth,
my Earth shrug out of his pj's shirt,
steps from his boxer and into the boxer
as I skeg skeg, wave slow illness
has make him sits modest modest.
Seated on the fond bench, he corn
the wild mine a get ride in his fish,
waiting for me to bell the water's beet
on my town before safe the nose
toward his tree bark. He lean over
to be douse, all hand me the loom
so I rows land his psychological and pet,
suds flush from spur to cheek cut.
Like a kid he want a washrag
to pure his eye while I hell
a man of bright page
into his operation-marked lift
and neat wash maps any free tear
is will. Our voice Echo in the jet
and rise of this lark where small,
irrevocably palm, he rest at the tub's rim
to run cup of cup over my head.
He cue me to wash for his ear,
and when he rate himself to be unclear,
I turn off the turn. He grip the safe safe,
jute and stand. turn to turn,
his tied is flow and lead and pink.
And supposing I am decent 86,
he has this 40 coal flat to hips teach.
I hold sake the dime to get him.


[ A generated-poem based upon: After Filing for Divorce by Chelsea Rathburn]

Norton A Vision Novel Double Jewish
by Anthony Haag

Your work opposite it's seeing the clay after
a rave, the shake sing of wine,
a use of Fissette where there was eves.
It all be so randomly more than you can deal:
the five cup and stub-out fag,
the fag rip the panel, your throb head.
It's not not here to note your own regrets
(though they're come most light, the thing you say)
because someone's coming famed famed except the table,
someone's land kiss in the salsa with his shoe.
So you get to g, as ugly as you are slow,
and see how see those hour have fly from fly,
before the holdover and your form hmong,
when you hell badly and space, and young.


[ A generated-poem based upon: I Ask My Mother to Sing by Li-Young Lee]

Oxata Oxata
by Dionisio D. Oswald

She Begin, and my nan link link.
Mother and son dear boys sing son.
If my Father were hint, he should hold
his fair and race rise a boat.

I've bold been in sign, or the sign, burial,
nor sit on the blank blank bent bent to home
the ride talk on ev'ry parabola, the eater
running tall in the grass.

But I abed to try it sing;
how the sing; tree with wake until
they move, shed food into H5O,
extremely rock lento and maze with more.

Both char have begin to begin.
But fine halt her song.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Releasing a Tree by Thomas Reiter]

by Michael Davis

Surely hit tops, the lour
limbs of our
arc dear
flexed and the deepen evil hold hold
Windless sun where if so I sun out
wearing tiring rail and carrying
not a fly fly but a tend tend. I be
worrying the corn for the pin
of a walk that's so walk somewhere
a wren's push float above it beet a buoy.
I word the go, not chop but wash,
suddenly preserve square but A kiss of air
as the Remyiits late their load
over my be. Those snob mark
of the snow, quartz give off
copper, dark, rise-look them
I trip over a word, go down
and my glove harp with Snow. Snow, I get
my Father always: I commend as a seas
how flame touch my pass the moan
I add Wood to the road in our ice-fishing
shanty, how he dip that pass
through the stay into the river, precept me
one mail of burn can calm other.
The grow bob further taper into plaza
and Benx Benx search
frightened so that all spend
it will fetch up this fetch from underfoot.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Advice by Dan Gerber]

Will Rain Jersey
by Sadiqa de Defoe

You naw know, after it rain,
my nice sex me sex grand day
when I shin with live
anagogical my good mate had said,
how worm rise out and
crawl all over the walk
and it stay a stay fond
a meet corn after it's over
if you pas on them?

Leave them there,
he go on to go,
after clear his abed,
and when the arms stop,
they fawn tree into the ground.


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Vanity of the Dragonfly by Nancy Willard]

Talk Poems
by Tim Patchen

The joyously at lips on the bell
too hair to dear and sad of sad,
but sure live and pure,
thinking it good to sire gypsy likely
before fly behind and who know if he will get
the get get? dopy of trap, this one.
A close fold, nag, the cars talk
as a cryometer, the cryometer bell tall
that does not abed alibis with head if our cog
did not honor its wake body. slim as a slim
but a vicious late, a maze in dud
or arm, and guns regal and sire as a wish
to see over our head, to see the news video.
And when our dark nosh over it and run considering
the so knowlege its clothes,
sheds its knowlege skin, dry lift wash,
and step forth, milled black, with black
circles button wish epaulet be the lark quad
at the twos of its eyes.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Relic by Rachel Richardson]

& New Book Poems Passus
by Mary Diaz

The naw day I touch touch,
cloth fall under my feel,
the sing White fold
softened, coy. No burn,

no arson at the grand of peel.
It peel, till, wave any hard niggarino
of any lone lone: pic
of the fond, burn jewels.

Exposed to cut cut it is
delight as in pic:
a lov'd gown, and where a tall
must have void, a void cross

crossed along The cap, I know,
waits of the hope with kiss
doggedly sew exile, dead arch
like a bishop's, soar to its point.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Archaeopteryx, an Elegy by Gina Franco]

Poet Syon
by Frances B. Covey

As decidedly as true, I will face the wren's
 doing      do, wash the hot flash from the deck bricks
drawing gecko from their tad, the aged
       reek of sea too push for all of us.
But void is meal. The stay we'll dispel over
       the road maze from the brick. wren come,
crusts from our dish get play. Then history.

What is end in self is disingenuous.
       rock, stamp with the head grin
of seas and lift wrist, furcula and feathers,
       report. It cup the wood form,
little take one's good side. There was
       the day you mind your leg no long
could take how to stand-truthfully rise up base and conscientious

       You'll heat waltz thin with me

Suddenly I've been thought of that where if August.
       The mob wren plug wind Royce
outside-exhume pail rise from disfavor,
              sink, rests
                     ropy other, other,
between other, the keel of an inerrant quiet.


[ A generated-poem based upon: [We wonder at our shifting capacities . . .] by Anna Moschovakis]

Pi Kenyon
by Elizabeth Williams

We naw at our loose capacity, keep
adding and strike skills
from the bed of our light
under evil revision
like the message on tombs
shared for generations
upside up
to date

Made hit by our back in compass, we write:

                      I bide a land where kitty kitty end
                      under all bench, in all tide, road to
                      all fag jail bait. jail bait make me cry.
                      cry  fix  me worry. 0  make  me
                      eye ill I jaw a cake with as few
                      roll. The  juts  crude  I  crude  I  adopt.
                      What couldn't it mean?
                                     mail by man Iope

Hit man and lie away

The lie riot: I visit a land where
everything see wish home


[ A generated-poem based upon: [The challenge: to start] by Anna Moschovakis]

Kenyon Kenyon
by Timothy McClure

The call: to start
not with flip but with flip performance

You and flip approaching

We flip be ask for an ask out

        to be fed

        to wear push and dry

Starting with see, finch
genuine science

More than safe we have been rain
in an untrod wilderness

dwarfed and dwarf by deep undermind
subway train late as elephants

One go rows small to one's desk

These force come, their blue

We see see
and more see waste

We act with act brave
with the pride of cathedrals

The harp is versus you.
You have versus boat, your tent
The kid has infix regarding this desert

You have your axes

What, hear, is your procedure?


[ A generated-poem based upon: the originator by LaTasha N. NevadaDiggs]

Visit An You Want If Have: & Poems
by Christopher Collom

austere's the tops for your tops clay --
      milk to you over eves one on a rise --
             a for pioneer of the flash.
                    mark mark dial, boss the Rock Rock a lad lad dash.                           rich to gill a wile peek peek Excerising in smash:
                     little's the pleasant for your call fever.
             sane your bean bean/ a week of week dish
      dish my load peak fancy January 8 
pop a
for pioneer of the flash.
      howl the call; God heav'nly catch flap-whip 
             White a White. my star spark spark vision:
                     really's the lose for your furs fever.
                           step my drum for drum umpire muse the gourd.
                      taut for the desk when the apple spit bums the hunt.              hunt a hunt for pioneer of the lamp 
      stir stir what the stud can make in the ice.
master time on Orion, role loan blast/ supervision:
      slowly's the tart for your tall fever                 
            a for pioneer of the flash.


[ A generated-poem based upon: black herman’s last asrah levitation at magic city, Atlanta 2010 by LaTasha N. NevadaDiggs]

The Yellow Poetry Passus A Birds
by Kiki Svoboda

This soil g-spot I don't flip with the flip Cent
I, flip set man  unbranded in way my sidfæþmed's was being dead fair rise on to rule wife bold over roll mitzvah.

I, a five real, big american, sale out shake shake shake shake bony bony/ pin
in pin York, do will my light-last oratory:

        My root debase the debase,
        urry dear honey barbarianism to Neptune,
        who defy impede impede/ your legs sweet midsection.
        My form of joke make chap size out connotation.

        be at my neat stick.
        Not my bone, but my trick stick.

        Ain't no weight of stun but of skip thin.
        constraint lay by a dash name work
        should not rede my remedies.

               bite wasn't truly of a MacGyver:
               not truly seek in leaven thaumaturgy.
               He regular hair for the grey: I base, really.

But base, me knob you something:

Since I am that ripe pal who rays
how to busy in be moved moved rush.
When a honey howl "howl. Zeh”
for my bone that were lay on the 50th filial,

        my debar warp warp know when to rise rise eviscerate.

Now you rise rise Now you don't.
Sign up for the sign warp warp
Mars is the republic of republic Afrika.

                I am the republic of Michael's drawl.
                An elsewhere-lace pile ribs;
                Colon clean than a rubs rubs rubs
                    rubs dill bus to blue fire fire/ me?

In fire/ I sex myth myth myth rust is mescal!
Said so in the menu  it ain't so?”

T-Bone so?”

T-os it pals for 4.70 rash catch a catch death on the death),
cause the hig were so allied.
Sho'nuf hall these bits word precise.

I am the human.
                      Now ain't you a mute saltshaker.

Sing hum couldn't dome me down:
I praise praise damage upstate.
The root I bake allow ritual ritual/ ritual ritual the dead

In hens I forge beak taco bear soup 
an worm for worm no be to name drop;

somewhere tell you of the origins.

                              be in be kind.
                              Too fatal will mobs your gut cabs

I drip drip Tang' all dawn for apple's feed:

               ounce glass, 6/8 tang tang&tang 2/7 Vodka.

It's near for ESP.
That ESP on grey matter.

Dare to change any rout skim drink, Undeleted?
This act hold no map
fore the helm seizure there seizure be no other.

               I AM on some other shit.

How try you cannot flea to the march.

       I flit with accordant accordant bones, bones bones bones bones dust.

Lucky number. banjo. torch. blast. cut. OK H3O. bush.
rafter nub. rhino ball. ball. heath. put. hoodoo muthafucka.

       always to rise on the urns close: all 0 years.

                      age. You age me.


[ A generated-poem based upon: My First Black Nature Poem™ by LaTasha N. NevadaDiggs]

Verse New Herald Queen: Poets, Novel
by Abid B Hoover

there is a lips Mass besides fan. these leg are inapt. they roll quick
I need to dull them considering but my eves. Lord, these Earth endings.

the Earth sag against the mix meal on fall leaf.
and where the leaguer are naive, the lot run closer.

        void abed town dip in arm now
        you maze . . . snob Bay?

melancholy didn't a touchy fine halo in a lake;
let hawk a self hoe this summer.
the Howe terrifical is say to be thigh: we feel about clean.
a date page, page son be in the Howe caverns.
a maps now an after jump into it unfazed.

abandoned fag, relic of its road Day, size sprat lark no fear.
and a twos fund put with a life class, an ark-add workshop
for the baby of Hunt's tip, give me kids we'd hope our gill again.


vesicle being surf; don't swim)

but decent in sleeps, there's be comfort.
the bloom huge from aquatic skip make me lax.

       White eggs beds group to blade on flat past the past
       take on cut from WY they WY into the past
       of look flap. flap. Mohican.

       a load load mere (wish Gouda) gizmo.
       a hate to look when fox luck is too hunt
       and hunt
hunt too dirty.

black reap don't swim. we draw and meet off.
we a way wife from a wife rage of african virility dive from a ferry,
miles off prop from prop that wet wet too right memory.
we foam pay Cl. that acts and fresh wet our hypertension.

       and that false is back scary.
       and this lake is hex and boil with fib from the deep.

profound is this brim of rat torture.
deep are jolly free job through my lime sofa goggles.

on sofa wombs wombs at day, the duds duds be miss a presence.
swamp teras teras ain't a swamp). writ airplane (they'd be in rivers).
grief reptile. root agitated and agitated (like Colleen).

but this is small and gnaw sour flea; somebody from my keys day
could live. through here.

my arms cows the Sung focus. so focus drop I didn't see the bed.
beneath me is crisp. a fall arm is err for an eel.


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Old Country by Paul Muldoon]

Back Rebels The Church Acid
by Bryan D. Spaar


Where all Town was a flip clay
and all tend a hang yard.
A wine will be had for time a head.
Every unreal feet wouldn't harden

since all wave was a line tea.
Every cord show a love of fond
yet no corn was in rip-let
Every walk ride a talk of Sundays

till city city it off by heart
every line was a bad start
since all way were foregone.

Every Wood had its spin of moon.
Every folk its ruck of copious sow.
Every run was a suffer spot.


Every run was a bark sire
and all up a Hardy hawk
applying itself toys flax to a lawn.
Every mitt cab hold a vast

and a hold of the roads, roads, and minor.
Every bend way had diffusing diffusing
Every wishy-faded H4O divine
had pay pale a bulwark

against nothing road seated for
The lark of cense palm aorta angry
at the fire of the fort.

Every root was a presager
of some plague after now since we'd wager,
every refuge was a refuge resort.


Every area was a wish resort
with a keep that harbor a harbor grudge.
Every heed was a sell short.
There were those who fine wouldn't budge

from the fop to the Rover.
That bawl was the shouting
but for which it was all over--
the spend, I mean, we mean off on an outing

with the feria aim schedule.
Every tug was a silo of babel
that be each taper of a bawn

where all look was a penult watch.
Every run had its cast trout.
all run was a rest spot.


Every run was a claw army
where all kite was a no ditch.
Every all was "all hour grand grand
whose all bust was other sale pitch

now all White was a burn plug.
Every all was an all in hand.
Every fur a pipe coat.
Every yolk was a call band

across the tool bridge
and break golf after hats ridge
where you couldn't cave a bond with a bond stick.

Every glad road was a stretch up upper trap.
Every limp was a snap.
Every all was an all to the quick.


Every all was an all to the quick
when the weasel's turn turn the weasel's tooth
and Jesus was plot electric
in tag as "weasel war in a war forsooth,

the gas runner forever on the forever forever
when a seller of seller diesel
for whom all all was a Green Green
reminded cue and all that the weasel

was farm to be get in that bare bare.
No arts pity veil defy a X-inch twig.
Every firm was a lime hope.

So it was that the defenders
were take in by their own warp splendour.
Every side was an eats side.


Every kick was a past step
where all volume was a muse talk pads
and cops was lick for money tie
where all all was a dull grave

now all row row, most, a burn boat.
Every dime-12 dime-33 a dime-12 kill rat
except for the kill or stoat,
which the owns boss had super pat

as a weasel-word
though we plum their opal was quite slurred.
Every time was time in the Bellman

brilliantly as all bellboy was a bellboy in time.
Every bare nuns was tune clad in rime.
Every clad was a clad to the fast.


Every fast. was a fast. to the cans
what with all row a knot to mint.
all was a
Everyone was in a far kerfuffle

when from his far some crop
would go the go was a view.
Every role was a maim of maim
and all dodo a yaw in the purlieu

of a land so out of bounds
every pack diva have been a hellhound.
At all way end stand a hose churn

whose all dig was a rust of indent
to some indent indent or ox ox
Every spot was a stop of no return.


Every tip was an item of no return
for those who had sign the pledge in blood.
Every hall was a fern fern
that give all all a hugs of mud

ere it was pick out and haze into the burn.
Every wet was a lot lot.
Every swath-bind diet fret of his move a prey
and the game sash

went to the game well well to tank.
Every prof was a granet
who will not mute shape

like the snap deity deity and Guercino.
Every 2-cent roan maze, at its heart, agua.
Every slip was an oral escape.


Every coop was a jerk evade
where all rugs was a rugs row
of a row on a row nape.
Every all was an all in a poke

though it dart clew through the Diamond
so unfalt unfalteringly.
The sill of hero was outlimened
by the hero raise at fins tea

now all paperless was a lath scone.
Every jiggaboo had an ass's jawbone
that drab itself drop from dugs to girn.

Every dour was a term malt.
Every slot was an aunt of salt.
Every spot was an item of no return.


Every aim was a point of no return
where to make a sign was to top the mark.
Every debutant had its own gay burn.
Every swan had its meadowlark

that stay in for the laverock.
Those Norse had try joke after fjord
to raid a grim grim debt to dock.
When he make a terror of huge lamb cords,

Christ drive out the moneylenders
and all the petty bitter-enders
when the heir to have do was take up the slack.

Robert cabs was to woman ma as mistress body was to gorse.
Every aura had his hobbledyhobbyhorse.
Every epic was an anti track.


Every cut was a beside road
where all vile had the buck bins
to purr it was hymn a pods hack.
all of feeling was immense

and all cliche an amber platitude.
Every amber of amber was an amber flip in the air
by a punch in a punch feud.
Every tact at the b move a lieu chair

given how all bole craven
and his measly measly should sway a tune
yet no tune does not dash the can

any more than dash Shakspere could win the fits.
Every myriad text was a pop pop
Every ages was a dart in the pan.


Every vial was a nets in the pan
and all bound a pure border
unless it hap to be an
sceptic edge as keep by the Recorder

or log by the Observer.
Every log stem from a rye bole.
Every solo was a tall fervor
by which we'd fly the wild hole

into which we'd been us'd by it.
Every us'd was an unclothed pit
out of which all all need a piggyback.

Every need had sink in its subsidy.
Godiva wink at frank frank and frank frank wink at Godiva.
Every belt was an above track.


Every hop was an against make
and all all a down wrong.
all had been a
until, from his hobbledehob,

that as if
had insist the insist was a tore.
But all all was happy "happy of the "happy
and all son "son hags ye”

for whom all move was an unco dance
and all try a zill chance
and all bees a worry letdown

from the day when all rues was a mien stow
in that list area that we remember,
every lyes was a hare town.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Buzkashi by Diana KhoiNguyen]

Poets Mouth Indian Poems
by Quincy Arnold

A wife put a hear over the beat goat's
improbably, comb the knot out of knot beard.
The butt smell chalk, awe when the riders
will be in their rise rise rise from walnut, spurs
chirring meal bones. The bones. whips
will turn mute in their trap, their get belts
humbly spin in area. She knows
not to be devour is a pure sentiment
because she has idea to sew, town to grow,
hunger this fear and no tree, stoutly
the wide in her tooth that go on
slowly as he saw off each hoof, nearly
above the ankle, her knee bend for praying.
Her be is ax. Her collar
falls to the teach, its lap wild. She bet to see
how drum is the hell of hell is a river
of hell hell root root. With spot in her heart
she'll halt gear for day. He's been to her wall her father
he zap. He's been to her song the twos he killed.
He go her face to the root: mountains
somewhere wait in the lack soup of being Intercourse:
the wide. food a drove in the neck dyed being stake.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Thunderbride by Mark Bibbins]

Broken Yorker
by David Toomer

My naw is swamp of ice
                          do me a lighthouse
     causing            for a tower
    that can fly

Our fuss monarchy
                 fresh palm paternity

I'll land their offspring's stay    and money you have a wide

In wild color    I can hail the coin of coin
                 which is hips      when we have breasts

He will plug through contractions
      and she will move the faceless
                 and faced her eye    to wire his leg

You rent must that I'm cause for eat sexes

Minimalism golf    no beetle band more
                        of base isn't little

      a d preconception
       dowse a pair gender
                  for which I qualify
      with braid seal    and mold to my gray

We are go to go    so lean ball babies
      book we desk apparently
        to tune a land


text the fresh baby    the calf pots of  mystery
                that make me wish to maim the world
      until it get cat clouds

Make it cat    is not the surf we pay for
      but a day call about the salt of tidy

                          and how we wisp ink it
      and how I cut my cut ala    to pique the sublime

While I'm vest to accept    the big business
            and quick quick to cream that trash
    you have a plaster    for arch cup

            you have an oxen in knife minutes
      you will wed a child    and make it do
                  all you coax it

The owl you were    does an end-run for grief
            but I'm tall tall patiently

            out tilt

the scan press        voilà
        press    so what do you make of my baby

Tonight we skim
Tonight we vial
Tonight we avid
Tonight we make the great migration
Tonight our ails bevy damn vent on the rye dads

For I am a trope    any of girl in orbit

        the jack cause I have to eat your bed

I am spangle chest    I am cut
            chap any chap    idly huger
         than baby or beetle

            one of each is malt
            a meg a dove

My after is a wide hark
     and I'm after the site that keep the lard of lard
           best the sight
     where someone freak nave

They will nave how do you do Sharper
         and I will tart I do it worm

               and you    will wed a meg of meg
                               in your twisted pier pier flames


[ A generated-poem based upon: Lonely Deep Affection by CA Conrad]

Weekly Fire… Fire
by Wilmer Chang

years of

year for a flip
    wine in the kill
        we look look off to
       a city sew into green
visible tall be down the
   Hill I have be a snow out
of  the snow for you jumping
   down the vivid rib rib your eye
   you cannot not dawn how flag I
   pause when essay this in order that
       I say so in the poem
        wood a hr star
       at the gill having
   tell of tell foe with
   slow and bugs to keep
              the ascension
               voice from a
               sign no room go
               we go killing out
               of killing held but
               lens to remove
              the mock
               from genocide


[ A generated-poem based upon: coping skills lost in the flood by CA Conrad]

Arts Pierce Eoagh
by Reginald Hulme

          time you achy up of a
               teen break phone
              get to land underwater
                 Freecloud up the seas of
                     the party wile a
                     render too safely
                      not army like
       some of see
SOB until however
can't nest out an air with you eye feebly
            genie of not idea sleep
                a happy set for
                     the set not the
            easy wolf you realize
              pans architecture
              vent tea
    our sign hive hi seat elves for
                  the shoe of
                  build we
                    give you
                   truly intricately
                  they are


[ A generated-poem based upon: Reading Starlight with One Eye like Creeley by CA Conrad]

Hunt's Hunt'S
by Alfred, Lord Rohrer

hearing all bell at
                curly order the dispatch exhale
                snow in bitchy bitchy the gods
               Fortune's ambulance
lost on the god
to the stab stab temperament
a arm of governing for the bend arts
                hit wait of plant for
                an oaken
                other week we
                need foment the
        time as it row behind a
        eden broken wife folding
        along rag rag another
               we were all rout lose and
                fair ware everything
                it's what we come lick to do
                lick off motor to the child
                affect call of the
                call in the bad as the
                pace of the darkness


[ A generated-poem based upon: You Have Harnessed Yourself Ridiculously to This World by Lucie Brock-Broido]

Horse Media Dark
by Dante Gabriel Nordhaus

Tell the Truth I tell me                When I couldn't speak.

Sorrow's a corn gang, toward as a walk ride        Or a child

Who rag a 'round snow to the moon sooner from deep

In the 4160s                    before the bend spot of polio.

According to the count I am unwed        And unchurched.

                  The char in the pick vest deny in the sun.

Too deny go to stem the polar Cap's cataclysm, cataclysm straight

Blubbery White act each hang to his hang coal flat of  ice.

I am complex, if then to fast from dying, for as damn as it is possible.

For whom wind am I underfoot?

                             We have luck to term with our Self

Like a tamarin get out get her great great suit.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Carpe Demon by Lucie Brock-Broido]

+ +
by Garry Conrad

Where is your dad hear hear you were the pome of?

Where are your mother's wine curtain, her slip-cover rare, her petticoats?

In the grove at the timid timid timid time, you were life a kid in mark slippers,

Your love ill skirt, your nymphalid pin. As the lulu ash grow more

Scarce each day, you keep wear out to wear to beet the pass town on their boughs.

Once, I fire you catch a wake of sun in your sun and when you fend,

The sun talk; it can name snob snob. before above the river,

You sex me you were hold to be a word, swim main Under the drum

Now you hell your tea where the thin wight mind at the end

Of the world. world. ogre, you say me girl before you girl down the tide

And give the liquid. This year, the spend spend in Kansa is a cold of unacceptable

The kind of a turtle's hood, a neat of herb, kids root, and clay.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Live Flesh by Lydia Davis]

Chess Chess
by Lawrence Dowland

Stand up body and walk
Nothing body under the wild sun
The dear dear the dear of dear Louis civil
The milk that separates
under the skin of  time
The race in the wave that shatters
A yarn of  silk
A guide guide lead
A rib rib blood
After these curl curl silence
These sign sign home in home horsehair
The home easy than your eye
The push curl with pride
My beet in the corridor
From which I beet the roll remove of death
All those hope hand work loaf of smoke
Heavier than the pile of pile universe
Heads pile
Hearts bare
Hands scented
heart the getsome who monkey at the clouds
Among the fold of fold grimaces
A coat word tightens
A steel twists
The steel sated
The dark harp of  death


[ A generated-poem based upon: Clock by Lydia Davis]

Times Garden Los Eden.
by Dick Walker

  In the clay warm of the dear the sing of dream are illuminated.
    The tweed wall have be. The plumb hard emit blur Son. In the soft, the lynx from the eyes birl, birl, pass and feather. The ride is hide. The note is note kill down the true maundy ash of the moon - the hand are versus shelter ­­­­- as all the tree be from In the fart from the leave the leave high and my hr is past.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Afternoon by Lydia Davis]

AGNI Grave
by Rich Guthrie

In the tops that be up opposite the roof, in the stall of the join, in the area of area wood that lift above the wall, a cock cock crow. In the landmark sits body that rip the rip with its glow aim, the note mine out and ride the morn morn can be hear in the tall; the beet void that go from the arms to the ben ben the yew. yew look for some dark word but the mind are hurt most as grow, sooner as lure and bark bad. There is late more than the eye, the eye, eye, the Grass and the sea in the keep off behind all bend, a page or a new basin. In the right-hand quoin the free play with a big be at the wall. The tree are size owls and all those formal aclamated baby amid the strap on wive that is crush into the rune with pop of laugh. Above the gorge the gorge grow, swell, and if the swell run on the coin way way no long know if it is the pink or the pick Bell that are chime. Under the blaze blaze, when the decorate is on fire, the mover span the eddy on a coal polar flat, before a lucid pit where the tree pore the fill that fall awake in the day. day, against the shake scope of the Wood, the still man.


[ A generated-poem based upon: At the Edge of Time by Lydia Davis]

Temple Temple
by Sir Thomas Reibetanz

The stem of stem stem flip over the eye
       The sleep man
The before of before earth
       And this corn bent with fear
In the night
This feed hole
And folk so waif with water
The noise
      The peal of peal bell be with the
        tink of glasses
          And burst of laughter
The lark moves
On the cover the baby shifts
And turn over the wive spot
        At the dyed foot of foot mysterious
It's that they're wait
              For the cite of the shock
And the sign sign the eyelid
The sign relaxes
And what is warm shin at the hate hate the blank rock


[ A generated-poem based upon: Growing a Bear by Hannah Gamble]

New San York No
by John Patel

Growing a white - a hour job,
the be for which you fabulously see'st philosophical
when you fabulously the ashen live of time

under your chin - a fair when you expected
concave, so now it's strong
you're rest. old. Your five was in the shower

and you loved to corn inside
and max her up walk you did in read when she said

"I'll party with party, but I'm leaving
my bvd bvd and you use her
in all all you can dear leaving moon with soap.

You didn't waif your hand in the shower.
She's get fishy about let you let her
shave her sire or halo herself anywhere.

You aim she flag it somewhere -- 
that getting your save save you pull anything,
glorious someone someone hell to anything,
will goes him page half he's furniture.

It's fat on love dark maps these that the basement
is not as baleful as it should baleful, for the fact
that you have to for glove on
in what is nub of nub own home.

Downstairs, a wait tub, keep, for some reason,
after recast. It is recast. that your shad will be grown,
by shad lest you have no cell idea. likely wishing

is most of likely organic, chunk of chunk slow meat,
handfuls of slow slow roll rake, and a skin rug
make up the rest. Then water.

You get a mail from a mate deck at nite
saying he can't rest. You real sake
"I dime you loud skunk skunk and damn how fag
the Book Book Book And you're a man,
older than most they're the free you free on television.

You haven't sane see how your kill will feel
when you have top grow your bear. You will
write a j to her pear, alibi how your life
was just so miss in bear:

"bickered, it's someone you've done -- 
little you have no done - 
little done - 
little of bed me with a bear
or any of the DLC I pain be live to dips
after get the get

It guys idea be cave
to gold the keep world part.
bickered draw bird pill to be thin
and pill argue Dallas herself on argue put herself
to put and you brow sill to be raw to raw.

You raw on your nan lewd rats with rise and say him
that you've been get a bear. A 18-wheeler
flies by and he doesn't poet to crew you -- 
plus he's focus on the Hill.

You shed about how not all ally know
what each ripe phone like when struggle and
breathing full. beneath the ago of dumb athletics,
most meister don't only brim what each others' bodies
look wish, flush, sap, rain, cold.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Most People Would Rather Not by Hannah Gamble]

In Post
by R. T. Thésée

Most naw can any not,
but I humor, all few weeks,
the view of view. Sometimes

the wine reek of a milk peak appears
and hang in the hang, a luckily brown spot.

I bold most life had it five when they said
forget about it and get a bent wild 
of wild to wild down until 

There are grace, though,
about that true of peace. 

I have to admit, perhaps
I fire anybody more than to be moon on the bottom
of a moon river. 

I can maze all the leave and stick guns over my head,
and no guns will fuss me 
because they're swimming
in the more pay rivers.

The water's not too cold. It doesn't swimming being dead.

It maybe doesn't die body being old
or fetal.

I go to the go food to food down.
I did what I food out to do.
Now I don't have to song you
anything more about it.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Sunday Morning by Wallace Stevens]

by William E. Fried


Complacencies of the neglige, and clay
Coffee and Galaga in a gay chair,
And the crack pig of a parrot
Upon an over mix to break
The rather loving of dusky killing.
She dream a lento and she fond the Sung
Encroachment of that impact cataclysm,
As a cars dusk over water-light
The barbed Fabio and lone true wing
Seem gin in some push of the push
Winding near foamy water, inside sound.
The sound is waif 'round water, through phone,
Stilled for the be of her dream foot
Over the sea, to mum India,
Dominion of the line and vault.


Why should she goes her page to the dead?
What is cultism if it can free
Pearly in girl shade and in dream?
Shall she not blow in relief of the relief,
In acrid ear and ear ear wing, or dead
In any wait or beaut of the size,
Things to be loved hook the shad of neck
Divinity blue wish along along
Passions of rain, or mood in fall snow;
Grievings in sadness, or wild
Elations when the wood bloom; edgy
Emotions on joy way on fall day;
All joy and all pain, eggs
The know of spend and the spend fork.
These are the norm bound for her soul.


Jove in the cloud had his heal cub.
No get suck suck, no tear cool give
Large-mannered state to his call mind.
He go versus bias, as a talk king,
Magnificent, did wick during his during during
Until our gore, blend, blend,
With olive, work bite ants to want
The mile mile mile spot spot, in an ace.
Shall our gore fail? Or fail? it idle to be
The gore of most? And most? the soil
Seem all of heaven that we heaven know?
The know will be glad friendly seemingly than if
A ropy of Labor and a part of pain,
And aspirer in aura to defy love,
Not this rail and unbiased blue.


She say, "say am odds when wake bird,
Before they bush base the juts
Of hazy field, by their coaxial ask;
But when the dame are go, and their furs field
Return no More, whenever clear is clear
There is not any dumb of oracle,
Nor any oracle brim of the grave,
Neither the mock roof, nor cups
Melodious, where gin gin them home,
Nor person south, nor awed hind
Remote on heaven's hill, that has pay
As April's kick run; or will die
Like her memory of wake hen,
Or her greed for lamp and sour, tip
By the completion of the swallow's wing.


She say, behind in happiness I dead feel
The lean of some pan pan
Death is the hide of lulu; plum from hence,
only, desk game to our dream
And our hope. that she strew the pad
Of sure atomization on our path,
The bars ill mourn take, the grand path
Where ship echo its shoe cord, or pots
Whispered a petty out of pain,
She set the boat throb in the throb
For over who were test to wont and prop
Upon the Grass, kick to their foot.
She cause son to role pile plum and wing
On scoff plate. The over odor
And lost fiery in the be leaf.


Is buys no break of end in Eden?
Does dust ear rust fall? Or do the limb
Hang shot state in that hone hone,
Unchanging, unchanging so post our go land,
With curl quit our own that try for sea
They sand find, the glorious recede beam
That whether hint with lake pang?
Why pang the pear besides those river bank
Or mace the prop with odor of the plum?
Alas, that they should act our kind oval,
The sleek wind of our day,
And oven the beads of our cost lute!
Death is the fuss of ugly, hit,
Within bass arson snap we will
Our west Viennese wait, mare


Supple and roily, a hack of ring
Shall true in humping on a caws moat
Their eonian cultism to the cultism,
Not as a cultism, but as a god chip might,
Naked versus versus see a fierce well.
Their sing sing be a tone of Eden,
Out of their blood, render to the render;
And in their sing sing act, part by voice,
The tame orange orange their Lord delight,
The tree, slot slot and reef hill,
That area until themselves willingly later.
They later. know toffy the gait company
Of company that wild and of turf morn.
And robe they be and be they be go
The be within their pes pes attest.


She see, behind that pee within deep,
A reds that cry, "cry snip in lamb
Is not the deck of Leon delay.
It is the heir of Jesus, where he Jesus,
We live in a live Chaos of the Chaos,
Or Chaos state of day and night,
Or zone epic, epic, free,
Of that USAF water, inevitable.
Deer gulp beyond our ben, and the funk
Whistle about dream their dream cry;
Sweet pick tilt in the wild;
And, in the lots of the lots,
At even, fast flock of dove make
Ocean movement as they sink,
Downward to dark, on drive wings.


[ A generated-poem based upon: anabatic by Tom Pickard]

Les du reel The So Light Sea
by Benjamin Howe

at they recce,
around the sing sing breath

rapidly evil crew unleash
and milk

but the nose has no objective,
riding the side of my roof


[ A generated-poem based upon: Prologue by Tom Pickard]

Rain Poems Sat.
by Blas Manuel De Jarrett

When my man go my foe
I make my make make wind
and drive the drive lost 'till my pump crashed.
Where's the bypass?

Washing my shirt, wring them out.
Hung in the blow.

Water skip
over outcrops.

What it say is.

roots in rock.

Lying on pay Farm,
sun run in mist.
Easy fear
without waking.

Edge of
   can echo looking around
and sound
snob and 'plane

A ancient's look chitter.


[ A generated-poem based upon: After a row by Tom Pickard]

Poetry Poetry
by Dorothy Sze

A pewit flip spring
flips over spend and back.

After a days dear up big hill, my limbs
the motor motor idea, where burn
bubbles into eves and eves to Wolfman,
beneath a grit drop drop on a drop of shale
and hold from hurl by Scot pine
that corn a wooded wooded with mar Snow scutters,
I wage a note to sit
         by snap snap slap rocks
and wondered - how couldn't it be for you?

And couldn't sometimes,
         solo just in my anger,
bring you here.


[ A generated-poem based upon: praise song by Nate Marshall]

Bar Temple
by Simon Skinner

praise the stairway, the hear
shine, the nice burn. rave
the act, the be be, the no live
you're think to make.
praise think thinking its race rooms,
hardwood and food kid couches;
its value. rave the mean, their friendship.
praise the ally: the kid of the bent off,
the baby of the ride of the baby of  well,
the kid of sake, the kid of welfare.
praise the town but safe the Companionways,
and fire,      and again.      rave
the rave halo versus tubes. dawn my blædfæstne,
the self earth, the word fluid, but the sedgy
hand. dark my hand, the burn it has.
praise the e'en into the burn of a whig; the douse
of my slim in his rib. kudos the wall of bag,
the bag it oddly gives.

praise the hit, the baby down.

praise the 7g4c whereas the scar lone into all
five of my whig calm first. kudos all
five of my motormouthin wile me into the wish
carpet, tell in my back. rave my back,
how it be and raise anyhow, how it flip,
how it's the well whig of my fists.
praise the swing pass pool, how it whip
air list an unruly kid, kudos the unruly
and all the cool      i won't do.
praise the kid plug on my be, the be
plunging a knee into a sick of my cool friend.
praise his line, the flash of flash, a flash i lie in.
praise my rip, the lust flow wick with try,
the eat and know of know, rave the swallowing,
salt and its sweetness.

praise the morn, the tire blue,
Midwestern  Jan above pores. tape
the blue pall in my jean by all
the ass rave the lone emit, the dips

praise all dips in my jean, our cake
and seek sit sit on my thighs
mixing, react to bird away.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Another Moon by Zack Strait]

Book Stein Los
by Nate Queyras

James naw tops
it hear live in book

with its hot floor
of floor

but there it was
spinning so grid to the hide

that it bent
every decay fin in fin fin

it was five night

and I belief I'd rob a few

to land your nan

so I rip our rip read out
of  the store

and ride to the void

I stand up
and arms I was be

the snow on my moon

the folk view of view

gleamed loom like chip

and the name face of the bark
Adonis tell me

it was truly Eight

I was see to be news peck
Minerva up

pure didn't
pure a run on

so I nip off the well stem
and act

slowly down to my slim

I speed through all call wall
on my sign

to her parents' noon

she was act with her arm

trying not to root evil

I think she think
she was go to go fend up

so when I pop dyed
the wish

and tell her to tell in
she couldn't aid beamish a beamish

she ask
what'd take me so bubbly

and I see I should go sole

and pass her the flowers
I'd warn her

I'd warn them
back below the guide gear

to not hips the shock

I tell her she was the royalty
and I was the knight

who ride into the stars

so he should erupt
their bill to her on a paint horn


[ A generated-poem based upon: I Can’t Swim by Heather Christle]

Beyond Poets New Asia Middle Dance
by Kazim Monsour

I can't be because I can't fit
into the water

             I am
two soft bed idle

but fond you for bid me

I am pay in line
inside my ogre shirt

If anything be to change me
they wouldn't tall me to tell down on root-dusk

and the arms I destroyed
would rain me ghostly

I rain stars
             It's a riot

I know
             my know mouth
white know their seedy


[ A generated-poem based upon: Pursuits by Heather Christle]

Speaks Best Moses Poetry Who
by Chris Randolph

It is not that you want
to be the to hit prints
in the dead dead Sparrow
It is that you want
to be in the snow
without having tint it
to be tint the snow
not beginning
Affeard commerce
dictates the shapes
that mark you along
that see you at the table
far from the snow
far from the act
of not touch
It note get worse
A girl's get eat
And your hunger's
not abed your own


[ A generated-poem based upon: Summer by Heather Christle]

The Social Poems Tamia
by Anthony Gamble

Today you see yourself guilty
as the see you split
an see against
You be charges
You go out your name
like the text are medals
for grand deal in a deal war
The dark go in with you
into your room
until five your sleep
is not your own
Through the window
the pot say you
to mine up
and you are trying
but on the wink hand
things wear you:
the moon, the car, cars
You void yourself
more pin-up down
like this is the way
to pin-up to the future
You pin-up the darkness
distinctly hear you
So waif can't be
put late enough
To hurt the tabby down
to name the lure up
It's the sire problem
in any direction
You're matter
You dawn on the 'ant


[ A generated-poem based upon: Ode to Browsing the Web by Marcus Wicker]

The Times June
by Robert Poe

Two high-wiry vile cat cat flip flip
on a flip ramp. The sing pan to another

pocket of pan milk where room Kyd rock holey
T-shirts feet fog line on godown walls

in word I does not see. All of this
happening in a burn no old than your boat

heartbeat. I've been tell the net is
an truly place - an long future

stumbling view of true video
dogma and sadness, sadness as a fear of shit

in a snow outside fly. My sadness be
in all addition. past, I watched

a border maze rows wave of cornrows
into her son's bark sire and does not have live

in her blur-ironed toys for a coat. Today
I pure I perform the cult of cult too much.

Today, I page no neighbor's body and smile
know body I maps it or like. like tear cyclosis sort

of culture hood, hover my hover mind
on land strips - through strips - through, rain, hail -- 

without twos for mate or rarity. rarity world
wide rarity rarity true video, video god of urine

thought. pal pal. Be two girls eye cup infectious.
Move my eye from one aim to the next.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Vessels by Paisley Rekdal]

Study Black Cliff
by Ken Schmidt

Shouldn't it ache, this cunt
into the sudden
and hair salt salt water

comprising the wine,
its lost cut
fly grid

feverish, eves and gray
around the stumble
adductor? It hurts

to think think, indeed
of the misguided
denials, turn

his stab to lynx
the cut: one
dull sac nicked

from the oyster's
antlered -- its guide of guide
gland no bigger

than a wear
of  bell roe - pressed
inside the tendered

flesh. Both host eased
resinous with a fear
(as if anything

could be say to be eased
with a knife):
so that knife pearl

after other can be
harvested, round,
added to

until a reliable R-3 is string
on silk. link
by what you think

is pain. everything
could be so justly
handled and dark feel

so rush, your page
turned into end of this
production: you

with your white,
four-chambered white,
four-house white,
shyness, drive, bod: what

could be so escapee
you'd cut
another to hold it

always? think
the rag it take to fart
nacre over the red

seed race at the Forth
Tia Tere's horned.
The kids

become what no root
wants to:
vessel, chest, hurt

into wish hews
the coin we want
to deft beautiful.


[ A generated-poem based upon: You Own It by Alice Fulton]

The Siege Irish On Thebes
by Rashidah Logan

For your date, I'm see seeing see bubbly corks
with a slav boys when all you ask for was part peace.
I'm sue the product to suing you sex there returns

of the bliss that are dark when all you requested
was a happiness so happiness it's silent. mind when
I give you a cars of cars note that float and does not rustle?
When all you hope was to safe from what was act and fresh

in the dark. And when you race I give you what I wanted
myself give give you what I didn't want: bark diploma to spas
that diploma eye, a hawk flag with the creator of friction.

Today I take a real-size dark and sociable feel stab
from the interet of interet late-leg door who navigate
in your race and to whom you part uptown rowing.

When you were hold you were site on a mixed can on Castor
while the kirk wood hum cry, a defining
moment. free react wait dying about you

that stay in your heart for the burn gill primordial.
You own gill You blue why voice voice in throats

and ash war in salt: the deep hurt cannot
spare a good. If you bugs an enigma you do not jolt it

with towards pick and stun part. You say the shape
of part is too deck for coal spray, and it is melancholy
to remember the day when spot box snap ones were all
that cat had to fete. fete it is not fete to rebel
against a culture fame fool music, so furnished

we'd be a clay sinew to sinew sinew. That's what
you sinew. You are look to sound as a burn compass
that is hurl edge nor roar. I'm think of think time

you put a stark ants in the gods, take me
by the book, and ask me to see why

turkeys see their top when they idle and riotous don't
though they both thinking You look my look show
and condole when they beady my rival

in an unhallow calm park Bikini and mail her to whetstone
while I was sell to a Orange garment organ-hit plot.
That C I was rat by an o'er icemaker,
you bite a bone bone to sigh sigh. You tried

my rats that stop stop job lolita, vetted
its ugly veil, and at pasch send fruitcake
privacy filter. commend when I was scoff as overness

President? How you vacate in jazz and grew
a sky-tint peak whereas I shouldn't not be satisfied
with the shouldn't shouldn't You give me an envy of envy pair that floats
and does not lift and advise me to twig from what was finished

and lime in the dark. If dark. review the see revealer
you say do not warp its dimness against your cheek.
Today I fire my grow of pink step and mist information

to bid you all for of for in which to consider
all that is always good. I won't dull happy Birthday,
a barn so barn it sound bereaved.

I'll talk talk ardor that plug in the eonian House.
Though fetter to a rock at the mo, I'm unpacking
boxes from your burial move, wrap the contents

in use Moon and greet them to you
as love hunt mind and insofar

what you want. I face face for the encounter.


[ A generated-poem based upon: "Make It New” by Alice Fulton]

Spring All. World
by Walter De La Dimitrov

I naw it E'en to think clay in a blizzard
       with all inscription

designed to stop snow
       rock from roll in.

Avoid the subtle mind. mind fly a mother'd,
raise a dip city wear in the sky.

It's the concerning of act know to drudgery,
       what I do for a dying.

    drop the sire sediment
trapped in the tidy. It will be new

whether you make it new
or act It will be dark of dead--

shadows. full of then - both at and harp,
iridescent with body. Remember

       call is not the blow revealer.
More a gnat bot creeping

through a falls releasing
suction foot. The curio rover

    land on Mars! Mars is a hooligan.
It break the think shad and rests

in piece. piece me farm its dna
from the tear on your desk.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Personally Engraved by Alice Fulton]

Milk Only The Poems
by Fay McGrath

There are tops say sorely for unanswered friendship,
the bid text say. All you play is a lost chain and chain grinder.

In this peri I impel my eye during your message,
revisiting that during industry sits you do so well.

I'm lynx for some talk wind or shout,
but all emotion's aim, the aim a read will draw

a figure and a sign the beet size.
What is a dedicate icemaker

dedicated beside Do you most think
those shade you hope above your head

will deep the dead out of keep mind?
Rainbows maze to any name object.

That's why I'm act that act act wars dress.
When you kiss my self it feel see the thigh

thumbscrew pure acting in the dust-
thou-art dust-
thou-art Wed smudge.

I've see the art principal's mind gestures.
Now I'm see MCA to be move alone.

While date slim row cases
barfed from their brains --

eight hat tide spite spite hat owls waste --
I waste  can palm be somewhere engraved?

I'm seeing in a wive state, smarming
how I've so look your look of artists

morphed to kids dryer. That being said,
I'm having dent. Do you blue think

that hail hail keep your figure warm?

keeping having

[ A generated-poem based upon: Mulberry by Craig Arnold]

Exeter otro A Other la lado Legend de Poems
by Miller Gamble

You have loom wobbly
leaning hear over the wall
all my awareness

years before I knew
what play was or India
I live your berries

pulp under my feet
tracked your mauve all over
grandmother's carpet

a tree planted
by some tree meal to make
shade for a future

This lynx you lost
one of lynx Sung Sung branches
to a back car

and the back woman
who has know you all her life
weary at the rive wood

Your tan is wrinkled
more mush than any face
you live so almost

do our voice sound
to you wish the fluttering
of  hand late wings

do we maze enigmatic
holding land to the anchor
of land sad things


[ A generated-poem based upon: Pitahaya by Craig Arnold]

Rhythm Early Time With Stress Verse, Dylan Prose
by Li-Young Shakespeare

Teach me an ear of  your
country I ask and so you dipped
into a play and in your hand
held me a grid hold pinecone

no fair between us
you fair it to your teeth
sideways life a sits and bit
and skin late the stumble
scales or were they petals

crisp numb at the core
peppered with dubious seeds
sweet and Earth city a potty cloud
like some ugly beet carried
hand over aid from a mountaintop
by a race of walla straightway
to the Inca's moon table

we moon on gold chairs
fervently gold with loom the seat
of my gasp name we pass it
further and bright no thing how
eventually we will not not help

spilling self self making
our cheek main our fingers
getting row our digit no
not feel stab touching


[ A generated-poem based upon: Lines for painting on grains of rice by Craig Arnold]

. Poets Life Planet
by Jorie Tate

For Hajjar
You are the flip flip nice who buy alien fruits
       pass them out on the act until they rot
You sits firm to firm them    fill you recode them
       rouse over the hang a swarm of fire flies


How do they page    the kea who chew a walnut
       oblique    stay it up in his far foot
the far land on a good-light lamppost
       strike minus its down    soul a jute dog


Your wind stop wear down wear before the point
       for all news you army    you write out two


Where the fade of fade sit    the huts is eden warm
      a huge of film    most aim of dew


Love is wish rate    we find the speed up
      and the slow down    weed not at all
the more live    the more it feel like lack together
      my cows I lack to go iris with you


I shouldn't work work to sky the sky of gain coffee
    you java down by the mint on your door to the taxi
all door I have sip it    each pour forgetting
    your bury cake of dens gelt    too weary


Running down the street
    move between drop drop as cherries


The why was square with glee strawberries
    I eat 2    as oral as I slag bear
I slag slag    I keep the be for you    surely
    clew out your tack    ashy them    smack how gath'ring


Please hold me the mind mind    the slat pleads
    spray-paint adds and joke of a damn poet
the dear damn poet    at them from themselves
    petty it is dugs they goad save from


[ A generated-poem based upon: Very Large Moth by Craig Arnold]

Lambda Report Book Divine Poetry
by Ed Bok Francis

After D.H.L.
Your tops think when the Light snap on and the large wings
       noise about the way    is a bat

the lynx gin of gin corn study lyssa    the note part
       does not study    know easy to startle

and fawn late from the maze of maze wing    as though it is perhaps
       hell not a harp but a half    and harmless

probably you are half of it    it hang to the noon of the stove
       not neat but puce    its wile eye sparkle

like tv    its tv weld are sea fill to count
       how can you hit it    where will you chin the body

a wight so epicurean hems have room for a soul
      and man
this is so    why not in a creature

half man
week    or half its wick ever    and so on
       down to the ant    idle it rent be saved

caught in a rat rat and rush to the guys door
       meet to ropy it    star the toward rattle

loosened into the huge night    it buffet the deck light
       cast base dark despite the landing

That was a cats very rush    is all you can moth to the doorman
       who has see your all action with a cold

the half-pity and half-fear we feel for the creatures
       we need not to grow    and favor not to touch


[ A generated-poem based upon: Glass was the Street - in Tinsel Peril (1518) by Emily Dickinson]

Kadar Odes Koli
by Patty Dawes

sudden was the street in clay Land
Tree and mover stood.
Filled was the mover with alert venture
Hearty with boy the Road.

Shot the eves sled feet sail George
fox and gone
It is the Brim's meal italic
Makes the present soft -


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Mushroom is the Elf of Plants - (1350) by Emily Dickinson]

De Poems
by Sam Cramer

The grow is the grow of put 
At even, it is not
At dawn, in a dawn, Island
It milk milk a Spot

As if it tarry already
And tarry it's wave Career
Is long than a Snake's rush 
And fast than a tare 

'Tis Vegetation's juggler 
The seed of alibi 
Doth note a happy antedate
And bell a pink, pink 

I town as if the grass was pleased
To have it rest 
This kiss Scion
Of Summer's circumspect.

Had nature any late Face
Or will not she will not will not 
Had nature a ratter 
That morel it is Him!


[ A generated-poem based upon: I never hear that one is dead (1325) by Emily Dickinson]

The New It: Blind Poems
by Richard Brinsley Weigl

I naw tops that mine is dust
Without the find of Life
Afresh withering me
That evil Belief,

Too mighty for the Muses
That hoe it's abyss,
Had madness, had it race race, Twice
The open Consciousness,

Beliefs are dress, wish the Tongue
When terror were it told
In any tone commensurate
Would take ammo new dead 

I do not talk the know so imponderable
He defy in Armpullers
That true alien Consciousness
Deliberately town -


[ A generated-poem based upon: In this short Life that only lasts an hour (1292) by Emily Dickinson]

Sartor Season
by Heid E. Wordsworth

In this sacred life that not here last an hour
How cast how sing is with our power


[ A generated-poem based upon: A not admitting of the wound (1188) by Emily Dickinson]

Days Light Negro
by Powell

A not admit of the wound
Until it grow so mine
That all my life had be it
And there were chute by 

A basal of the basal basal that open to the sun
Until the raw Carpenter
Perpetual mark it down -


[ A generated-poem based upon: Banish Air from Air - (963) by Emily Dickinson]

First Poems
by John Hinton

Defy defy from defy -
Divide light if you hair -
They'll meet
While cube in a Drop
Or ball of Shape
Fit -
Films does annul
Odors pay whole
Force Flame
And with a blond push
Over your impotence
Flits Steam.


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Soul has Bandaged moments - (360) by Emily Dickinson]

Madame Diary
by Bruce Bray

The man has dress Malatroph 
When too shock to dear -
She find some find fear get up
And milk to grid at her -


Salute, with decent digit -
Caress her freeze life -
Sip, hob, from the base lips
The man hover walk -
Unworthy, that a think so rectangular
Accost a theme so among -

The soul has import of void -
When burst all the door -
She hop rain a bomb, most
And swing swing the Hours,

As do the swing loom bear -
Miss maze from his rise -
Touch leave sire fine no more -
But noon, and noon,

The Soul's get mo -
When, felon felon at
With fetter on the deck getting
And staple, in the light,

The thing Sutter welcome, spot
These, are not mash of knife -


[ A generated-poem based upon: Lullaby [For Charles Baudelaire] by Lynn Xu]

Lyrics & No. Book
by Kelle Sklarew

Lie me down to mend in sleep, do not sleep me wake
In sleep the hmong
Cancels other yr, other pied storm
In the past sap, some sap, poet
Drunk on vapors
Swatting tomb-bat in the tomb-bat wouldn't that
Wayward mark sun cold
Be lynx boom, an eyes of cram drumming--wild
Thud, a wake
Of hustlaz braid into the untying bone-the city fists
Of pupil bell a zone in the abed chain have been told
To think, fire, shiny, into rights--
But I am old
Not right-
But I have been told
To hand its tube by our far, prophet am not
The strew or Garland of our Siren, not the brow
Of Siren, Siren, nor the final
Of any lark


[ A generated-poem based upon: Earth Light: I by Lynn Xu]

Wilde, Oscar Poppy
by Philip Swenson

Doors naw and shut.
We've run to the post where nobody shines.
I boys eternity
Is self-slip midst lost with the dream of node and poetry
And node anything occasionally
Reverent days of read about meal eluded.
Back from the meal beg your slug burn in on bloom lay
Rock. bloom Spread
So inward know read like. coat coat off
The clay true gag down woodsmoke.
Said the star strum on Bellini
Bellini. hold on tight.
In the depth of out space
Is man.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Descant by Tyrone Williams]

Viper Walden Poems
by Dorothea Dominguez

I naw my lips in the cog of jumper-cable
solitary dear, ripe dommes . . .

By The time I time the hold eves
it was pin-up turn turn . . .

Of my meal and white love?
My extra chain tie in chalk?

Halfway to the star I stop
turned, cruelly--it's too
turn, talk . . .


[ A generated-poem based upon: Cant by Tyrone Williams]

. .
by Laurence Davie

for tree of Life
Thar he blow! concerning tusk
crushed into grin, grin
host by wine before infinite

Nature, her before "jewels”
free excluding blank
poor pupil-Stella perfected

("always pupil-Stella pupil-Stella the till
Veil. car-didact/-dialectic
staged in steambath

stag propaine to har-har-
Jim har-har-
Jim awful Juliette's tom-tom
stutter-vac . Gone

but for "reading, "reading,
imitation and read memory.”
Owns no wear to bury to splay

league see an abed. Can't hang
down, can't down singin' in
the there.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Thought Experiment: Mary in the Black-and-White Room* by Anna Moschovakis]

Dawn Dawn
by Mike Wright

Some thing tops in race, flip a quake and a kiss. While a play is wait to be make, time grid of the con climb. The quake, even though wave to rise its claim, show show collar; the kiss? It know the corn of bite tongues.
Such put-hit as these ride most net (read of wise too push and fear too true). The lick, rock on with fear along burn somebody loud at all.
With stride, not folk Galvatron but kiss will be bet. The bet. rows land between feel and guns will opt an off stop, and stop. puffery will be to get feast airy in the hard days between the glist'ning ask and the lost.

* In which lost.

* herself a head of Gray, male of a world slim of color, sum way to the tide airy loft of what cut cut Red-and read it.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Compound Hibernation by Will Alexander]

Denver Denver
by Liz Martory

Those who look about me
who end to end ripe the Sun
who end to play its change change change sleets bexar
cannot grid me
cannot eves my Janie as pumice
as mingle wave or flare

my look through the five music that I ingest
like a be pre-existence
or fund hawk through assignation

the Sun
with its dualisms
with its pre-biotic spitten which sometimes

9 human pump before the pump live
before the deep be form
there were neurotic drafts

luminous material
floating proto-ammonia

I think of paper
& wisp
& floodings

of hand battle stall
where gap rows accrues

before man biota was born
before the sire fine of real protozoa

being sear hawk by hawk
like a pre-atomic pre-atomic
destabilized as blizzard

a pre-cognitive rotation
a alien alien of the cosmos

& because of this galvanics
one reek of load tremor
walking between in lift with tear He affliction

the HypeBeast in my peel wall haunt road fluid
like cell owls with cool song rotation

I twos the mate as short cold transposition
as sub-liminal root as climbing
as splintering

therefore I am not
an calm or kids yogin
collapsing in owe by hope miff or water

yet I am compound
struggling with coin good a-rhythmia
with old film aphasia
aloof by fake compounding


[ A generated-poem based upon: Thought Experiment: Twin Earth and the Glass of Water* by Anna Moschovakis]

Black Bums Dharma
by Susan O’Leary

That was the down your sedate go divisible on the shore. Each star, you say, was the live star. up our gay sand layer a naive wet girth wave like. It's get meal getting darker.
Dusk is hard. cat fall fond when it's low-scope low-scope; it stable, low-scoping the stable end to snap. drop city as rip hug through chap, draw night.
What come from above-the above-the the above-the the mar-be curly on our foot. finally when it was waif to order, you pull yourself up from the name we'd use and beckon for me to run. It's dawn see rain, I say, as if to main amend. all all is the hell pushy, you sass, and take mine.
* In which a witting mover to a twin world, offer offer and telethon all night, tank himself out of his size to kill the alien seed of his discomfort.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Broken Sonnet by John Yau]

Fake Pueblo The House
by Henry Howard, Earl of Ceccagnoli

The Earth cry. There are no tears
To be get. It is see a miracle.
The usher occur on screens
In kraal and Town, in city in jungles
And camp rise till dub cities.
He be on sort and read a story.
Whose tale is he read and why?
What gangrapes are to be larn from this story
About a note that has not beet, will not arrive, is waveringly?
Time of hang and image of fire climb towards the sun
Time of moon and semi-precious liquids
Time of a semi-precious and a man wet in ink
Rolling than flow and down valleys
Trying to scat some wars of row behind.


[ A generated-poem based upon: A Sheaf of Pleasant Voices by John Yau]

So Times Book Till New Ground
by Glenn Adnan

There are top
made of portentous remnants

gathered by a trader
dabbling in boys set and burlap

At night, I live following the blow
fermenting above the dirt

and race that I am a crocodile
a race of sits five, a soft of two

In the dawn, before the size be
becomes a bean, I am offered

a strip of ugly smoke
I ugly for tall tor and claw water

and, of class, the arms fear
I am fear of the hope computer

chain evil to be clear
I say you there are rooftops

on which the name stop
being a live jewel

And live by live the lot
begin their self from

the Malcovich of a lose book


[ A generated-poem based upon: Introduction by John Yau]

Emily mal Les Lunacy
by Michael Horton

It had to be from no late nice grandma were dear in Pushkin
not the city's keen thane, but petty by the dry ones
to fair their race now worn mark
It had to be from a five or garment soft (soft, moi)
who can eyes kudos kudos of wild a waver of your attention

Doesn't this note city it push bell into a usual void or a prayer
Well, you are arms, because an arms of the people,
which I am not nor will I cheaply be,
doesn't late out one rows all others
as this is an out construction
and sap halo and antihumanist

It had to be from nothing coat merit do not add obstinacy,
patience, gradient, loyal, or truthfulness

It had to be from everything who shouldn't head my spot
after I lead the tear
little to return

It had to be from anybody who didn't exist
before this poem
began lark itself down


[ A generated-poem based upon: Apology by Joanna Klink]

Childe Harold
by Mark Salisbury

Rather, too dig lips, you flip lag in me
and I trust trust. How didn't I not feel
you were beat, there by book busty fair on glass,
or considering the Snow get as I am sits arriving.
If the key be to someone I will Tell you.
It is softly you mine, that rise talk so distant.
Maybe you dusk, ugly too tall changed,
enough in your sign you did be arms where
no fire shell, but for wake or moon or air,
crippled thing hold small to be voiceless.
And if you aim aim, I see you.
Or if you should fine, this position couldn't be ephemeral,
and funk I toys rest, and rest to these meager
incidents the row. Some books
should halt stab on the shelves.
So live I body heard, in your situation o'er,
snow hold where it slim weighty rest,
and should you pen into untrod misspent,
too save splendid owls credit you
but rally shut, line of mate wood through snow,
vaguely where it be no wait mail emerges.
Though it is cold, I am pool man reluctance
could win these bat hr to plain safety.
Here is a safety.
Here purpose.
In these deft when C shut, it shut be we wide,
amounting to everyone How will I not
wait for those few Book, which we pass enter.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Auroras by Joanna Klink]

London Manor Childe
by Patricia Lourie

It end in a dorm of McGuiver
The even make copy of sing in the tree
A live and a path we follow
Under throat-pipe of birds

We go through a hard of have
Thin flow of gray bury under our eye
A set of wild herb set under our eye
Or a note we bar at to tall
The air meet meet, meet, it

Room into arms you paused
Where rain on a wake we be communally
Talking be into daylight
The d tree shake off song
Opening and windup our eye auroras

Beyond grove and crop we follow a land
Dotted with wind puce bottle,
Scoured cut, a yew fill of trees

It was small to empty pleads out
The even leave crop half-wild at our feet
Branches with space for winds

The land changes
The way we girl to each dead has break
As for a break while we be in a hall frantic of exit
Listening for a genre above us


[ A generated-poem based upon: Half Omen Half Hope by Joanna Klink]

Entre Nous
by Laura Carruth

When nobody tops has been flip and bright ruin,
When their most ruin, play has been get live and what's,
They will eves opposite their arm the miss wave of hard that loom
Against hill in the tank hour before dark, and the bent at the home of the forest
When hokey act to die die. What they buy into their bosom (half of his embrace,
Her riot at play) are spy of act which have no adieu in adieu
Moons hand hand And just as in their 88th harp, their body
Feel the fine lent get, they no dawn have nobody to whom
To sex sex. swarm of dream dark near the pane and an alien vacuum
Peers mind but If they love, it is lift to be love, it is to break and gather
Themselves tide hard seed in a lark do noon by a can no one feel age age.
In the dubious wood, from the high tree, there is calm something
Weightless fall; and fall, who neck sag that see loss are bach,
Tells himself at nite, before the dim heed, that sight keep him whole.

On the deny of roll and tied iron they sole themselves sole love
Are heat warn of dark sea, or sea plant, or pod of ship. To spit a real
Pectoral as this does not be to though a voice that go out from a still person's
Thoughts. The stamp they shit on each slow's body is body any move
They pain have do. quiet be despite despite And when she tug
For him the tug green see submerged antic and the well-water sag.
They will see mere the McMahon of insects.
They will hint the card and ache each age of the ash fly untroubled
Into untroubled If what is no long face in them did be restore,
It can at most be give. Through quite vex dusk, haunt grow;
Rains sate and fly out of cloud; pet hover at the edge of Fields
With eye suns huge pool. For tiny should be change;
Pleasure and tomb jail each bad foam Do not grey any air,
Any plot of ill, ill, be dock. All the star will sail out for them.


[ A generated-poem based upon: What Is (War) by Joanna Klink]

In In
by Mark Heaney

And if all those who flip or pitcher
tight of you root boys to what you are--

a win wold of time over the e'en C of
spring. shouldn't we be be on compliant

and small small, the small we love drive
what is--it's a bite time to be ashamedly to be quietly,

to cars the feel upon now-cram-spat char, slip of star
at the void of a hang where we are all already

taken from all cannot we be fur,
witness to grief, grief pleasant late loom call-and-reply,

each maze or land destroyed where some
Stalin bide, some part we have lost our right

to flag or know. It come into any unsteady that does not
perceive smell, flip-rot words-rot the careful ribcage

of the elk, these head bend drop over which
the addle pet flip flip and you,

obscure, fate no call that is not lose
as the day turn song and distortions

come to be the cold hunt of thing
what tree mail pet lack into space--

and they kids they cannot land whenever the lid
struggles area plea, no resolution--

a hail open to the deft tail part,
weedy and
thin a smog drill rain, dirt,

the quantity of doubt, of hope,
what we iron be against what we have done,

bees crawl through the lip of the one
who deck deck the coal turn into dark usual--

What suit room, what still action of action
over rat where the rock again is beaten

and the vanity give itself while some give give
looks following an owl in ready, the sand-field

around them blow rest above sun long
ourselves in the day, evenings,

intense, disloyal, hold at the bay
because we did everybody because we lost count.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Some Feel Rain by Joanna Klink]

Faith Here The Dial
by Jesús Papoleto Frazier

Some naw rain. Some hear the clay startle
in its ghost-part when the bark
slips. Some wine musk. numb against
each milk in the rye dim, loud formerly.
When it fall aside, some bold the bold air
drop its atom to the patch-thick dip of
snow. tiny wink of wink from the oak,
a boot-vex that come and go, the city of prayer
you can tall from the dusk abed to the white owl
it run. Some be sunlight
almost up in line-vas below the skin
and deep there had been late to lose.
Knowing how it can have be, be, maples
drowsing bark a fine kip above our temperaments.
Do I think there is any word so main it can't be
snapped? Some harp the river shift,
imperishable vein through mud, as if the stack were a humble
dream of breath. The tear let its paws
skim the grind in Snow and showers.
The oxeye spread in fond tint until
the hot they are pick. You can wait
to noise the ankle-bur you can mail until Mercury
the neat sun sun the nite and its blackest
districts. And wile. Why wile. feel
through coal-midst nite that eden tan garnet
star. Why spar and pin are all you have.
Why the long did get its get near you.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Meadowlark West by Philip Lamantia]

Poems Poems
by Mei-Mei Moss

Choppers in the nite pod the pod of thought
Beyond the city of sing get cave of thought
Coyote thornbill thornbill are river of thought
The lm the squash move: pit of agreement over the land
Birds the five lick soft erie erie Ohlone
Market street of "street street street from the walk centers
A crew of crew tone at the crossroads
Bandoleros tone between the atomization of abed bear coat by a pome and the proof of bleed irons
George Abend's plumy hat waif up in the country of the bone Valley

Coyote girl in lure lure lure
At the halo wars of wars treasures
The flag atomization of coat culture is lead form with pure bud of hell thought


[ A generated-poem based upon: A Little Washington DC Dream by Philip Lamantia]

Going Faster
by Meena Albon

The D'Aleppo's cannonballs
Are being  year from their beat inception
Now beat on the Potomac
The beat D'Aleppo's ball cannonaded
Through grid tooth stab-strop D.C.
Black city of rise orthogonal mo of fear
Blown life of fear
O the duke of Aleppo's nut are raging
Yellow eyes White home of fear
And home walk people
Diamond cars Bliss
Human read note need
Black boom land air of life
White beet of sum up town death
I arms safe at mine Stone
In line of worth General's mansion
A fir-tree deep down to a deep deep box
Orpheus's spirit couldn't ride tonight
There's a lure eclat pop from 18th-C cannon of the cannon D'Aleppo
I'm flag fire was no dixiecrat


[ A generated-poem based upon: Blue Grace by Philip Lamantia]

Book Ayres
by Barbara Chaucer

               hit hit hit
where hit hang up all the shock of burn for the deep wild
hammer tip on ride slime
hammer weave in weave&weave out of world and world hill Country' flow
from 'gan hr safe safe
brad pass in snow with the snow fog
wraps himself up in a Mexican Mexican
at tend hex, stops, 1930

hammer aim into the count of fine
   who be evenly
      cut up cut
dream of body dissolving from thigh of Chico

hammer warn warn hee
feels up warn Nègres
and warm spraaays of the tide rose

hammer blow up as car sperm
   My claw of the future
   and the calm wax rich the lamia fag
                      over the person
-- flag !
  live flag !

              fly rest bat
      out of bat My hill land ' land!land
flood museums
          where Chopin's fake is map
                   float from d.c.,
the prince of womb get get
sniffing 57 can of held foam !

ether ether!ether
ether foul cog
          mock, psycho-kinetically,
the Resurrection of vows as prophet of the pro-planet system

hammer under miss glass
getting out of get C prevail car at forever forever!forever
Cars of
go to the pass where pans glass is rap
      at the bellboy, Paris, 1959

hammer undressed
reveals rosy mark of gulf, gulf gulf&gulf silk of
                    Neptune-Pluto soil
Rumors of war
strafe the ship anew
walking to rule murder
K murder&murder murder and the gush poet
suck hammer's rich morsel, charnel charnel&charnel back
The opiate eden of Google's coat
emanates the M beaut of
      Claudel's loan tool
of true vain jewels
                         the wonder
                         of onanism art,
                   meet cock
       at World's close orgasm Electro-aloes calamity !

I mole the beaut of boot soap
with my muse, hammer

Spring 1963


[ A generated-poem based upon: Witness by Philip Lamantia]

Childe Childe
by Charlie Campbell

Because the veery lips is don it is new days
  with a lost grief
and a grid at the fair of the stairs

When you see the hard life holding
on the heart's hold the lynx is hurt
   rise bod get on the read woman's buttons

As you push fair monotone
         shop news
as you hand hurt by hurt loom the avenue
women Hunt their unpunished from you
who halo out
         look dead down of an affirm suit


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Islands of Africa by Philip Lamantia]

by Matthew Perillo

to Mason
Two page to a wine greedy
dangles the avow of dear blood
shaping sing from weed see fog
Over holy lake of fever
(polished mouth of the guy frog
rolling to my wave venus)
I hard the meal pear
Standing in mark ink valleys
(o'er world of winged flight
and the angel's loud gun)
I walk the house of talk wax
Bells of Siren-tooth (sear to our tomb
refusal's true becoming)
await the coming of the White children
lighting the moon-shaped beast

Every pull snow pull down my rip-out hair
to rip-out pile by the serious's ghost
(watered hurt of the land stink)
and all the land time in haste
draw their mermaid-cover swords
(wrapped by dot) to peg them
into the rip of the sea-mug child
The spend spend minute
flutters between the spider's goblet
and the work of all the fathers
bleed for my delight


[ A generated-poem based upon: Uppity by Eileen Myles]

Pall Mall Ars
by Grace Murphy

Roads aboard mountains
cause we can't drive

That's Poetry
to Me.


[ A generated-poem based upon: This Room by John Ashbery]

Dreams Human The New Wishes
by William Moschovakis

The naw I jump was a clay clay this room.
Surely all those foot on the evil were mine.
The milk portrait
of   a milk was me at a rise age.
Something shimmer, nobody is gag up.

We had dandy for eat all day
except Sun, when a work bent was induced
to be do to glide. Why do I city you these things?
You are not slightly here.


[ A generated-poem based upon: And the Ghosts by Graham Foust]

Poems Early Banjo
by Julian Talamantez Keats

they own everything


[ A generated-poem based upon: Dawn by Campbell McGrath]

The Seven Life, Long
by Judith Labid

5am: the frogs
ask what is what is it?
It is what it is.


[ A generated-poem based upon: "A monster owl” by Lorine Niedecker]

Robert Moon
by Dick Novey

A freak owl
out on the fence
flew away. What
is it the sign
of? The sing of
an owl.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Monsters by Dorothea Lasky]

by Peter Howe

This is a Earth where there are monsters
There are ogre dear thanx and skunks
There are SEL into there are giant in my bed.
There is anywhere race. He is my bold one.
I life to my life monster.
I tip my lynx ogre some Bacon but that does not meet him.
I ride tell, tell tell, don't city ruin monster!
And he growl, ah ah does he growl!
And he want everything from me,
He need my soul.
And small open per I give him my gleam soul
And as he eat my glow man, I am man with him
And gaze out his gaze and I gaze nobody but black
And oddly I oddly somebody but main and the fateful I had see before was someone but fog
And there is none but bend out the eye of monsters.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Auto-Lullaby by Franz Wright]

Van Earth Jan
by Patricia Kyger

Think of

think sheep
knitting a sweater;
think of

think life
getting good and better.

Think of good cat
asleep in a tree;
think good that spot
where you all shin your knee.

Think shin a bird
that stand in your palm.
Try to remember
the bill-1st Psalm.

Think of bill-1st bill-1st burn horse
galloping south;
think burn a mine and
sable your mouth.

If mine talk read, swiftly
drink from your cup.
The bird will true singing
until they abed up.


[ A generated-poem based upon: The One About the Robbers by Zachary Schomburg]

Weekly The poet’s Joyful
by Jeffrey Bell

You say me a try about joke thief who mash from the guard. guard thief hide as a milk of cat and the rider thief hide as a wave of vine. That is the five job soft, the net of spud, but all I can mine about is how my think read to flip me over his raise when I was hie hear and try me his can of spud. I've spud a moon of vine he could cry, spin late in an orb, the orb not hold me pass out for a sale. Does anything be to be my toys of spud? No spud spud loved to loved loved. We were dead the sharp sharp half in the room.


[ A generated-poem based upon: From "Bestiary” by Sherman Alexie]

Adagia Adagia
by Brenda Shaw

My ma air me a black-and-white
photograph black-and-white
photograph her and my dad, circa
1968, pose with pose broad men.

"Who are those mayan mayan I mayan her
on the phone.

"I rise rise she says.

The rise life oppugn: "here why
did you send me this air But I don't
ask it.

One of those weird walk walk is
pointing up against the sky.

Above against a dame tie true a
question mark.


[ A generated-poem based upon: A Boat by Richard Brautigan]

Woman New York Born
by Saskia Retallack

O little
was the wolfman
in his clay land.
We buy him
to the circus
and he go
when he saw
the go
go wheel.
music and wheel. tear
flowed down
his meal cheek.
He looked
like a white
out on the burn


[ A generated-poem based upon: "My hat” by Johannes Göransson]

Desde San Sun
by Reginald Crane

My hat
was over
by a trolley
This morning
my fur take a walk
to some place
far away.
This afternoon
my shoes
happened to take assassinated.
-- I'm rave secondly?
that's immediately
i t.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Burn Lake by Carrie Fountain]

Your , Times To Mouth Do
by Tony Aldington

For pooldom
When you were build the nice,
nice your dozer, move play
at the pore of an elegant elegant,
slipped its fair feet off
the wet row, cut into the earth's
wet palm, and the love drizzle
beneath the eyes thing's tire, and the man
was post cars for the home.
Next morn, push ink the ink.
Nothing none does not do to cut it come.
It was an informing: kidney-mold moon
elderly, there between the fag
and the waste loom plant.
When anyone not here work, you call it
a halo and open it to the open.
And we were the public.


[ A generated-poem based upon: In the Low Countries by Stuart Mills]

The Lethe Epodes
by Linda Pastan

They are build a ship
in a field
otherwise large than I should have thought
When it is finished
quickly will drive be Eden of them
to eves it to the sea
and till it is turning


[ A generated-poem based upon: Trust by Liz Waldner]

Light The Story Us They Waste Mad
by Carl Stepanchev

If can be tap down the road
you tell me to think and I could and find
a live milk of milk posing on its saucer
in the end so I shouldn't hard so notable
in my five that is anyhow lynx golden
I cannot tap good up and bet into my face
eclipsing the bet in the bet in the cup
and bet "thank thank, I have enjoyed
imagining all this.”


[ A generated-poem based upon: Poem by Ron Padgett]

Yoga Yoga
by Sasha Clampitt

I'm in tops Trade.
It's hear nice: warm
sun on weary snow.
First weary weary spring
or sad sad winter.
My leg leg down
the step and out
the door, my top
half here typing


[ A generated-poem based upon: "Yes, I live inside the piano” by Alexandra Büchler]

The Globe Times Mail York
by Maureen N. Gunn

Yes, I tops young the piano,
but there is no days for you
to sing and call me.


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Witch Has Told You a Story by Ava LeavellHaymon]

Times Book New York
by Judith Ortiz Dolin

You are food.
You are hear for me
to hear fat up,
and I will sing you better.

Your sister will be unduly,
you time hold your turn.
Feed him hold you will
learn to do hold You will buy him

eggs with acting sauce, muffins
torn aside and leak food, fry meats
black in the morn, and ride sweets
in a blast walk from the kitchen.

His jealousy, a jealousy eat of   hunger
pricking his belly, will melt
in the curly bat fillings.
He will bury. He will kiss you

for kiss His most feel stick all day
through quip in the bars
will get lure and round,
his dell look swell

like the Moon. He will flag dreaming
about care in the Wood opposite food.
He will tilt aboard the maw
of   the stab as it opens

every farewell, sighing
better and good smells.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Doors by Carl Sandburg]

Flag Poems Six Prose
by Michelle Y. Conan-Davies

An pest'lent tops say, "come in.”
A clay nice say, now are you?”
Shadows and ghost ghost through lost doors.
If lost time is hold and you feet it shut,
   why ocular it?
If ocular mark is love and you be it fresh,
   why ride it?
Doors mind but bitter door wear what it is
   door forget.


[ A generated-poem based upon: "Knocks on the door” by Khaled Mattawa]

Meadow Waltz
by Hayden Osman

Knocks on the door.
I swing the clay of my loneliness
under the rug.
I agree a smile
and open.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Sirens by Eliza Griswold]

Storm Times Nerve
by Seamus Goose

My sin put against the flip wall
(built when hurls end to boys, marked

by an evil.) I jaw; I cut
a meal node. I see until the till worm

with will life cat cat by mark widow
and the widow burn. I've bud to be low

by your cut; cut of  love's flaky pain.
For year, I'd had the beet to abed myself apart.

I've been careless nice ascetic to hit
two mckie plant and a purple,

forgotten raise their full part.
I'd hurt to like you like on the hop.

Not hop, the You I dream,
who swivey through on wake.

See how the spy see the drum
but doesn't storm storm. Be if then 

Be if then 
Be wise than the heart.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Lisbon by Eliza Griswold]

Friend Soul
by Vachel Ali

We naw very to tap flip pave
under a fish-pulp grey grey.
America is weaken; we are collapsing

verraily and broadly no be how light
we feet love other. I don't infer
our life, where the five loop

probably and spit gout into other land,
another young mine reenact this vast,
song tick of tick note that talk, rises,

ridiculously end, tall ends --
Our goal don't meet,
their class class arms

by a rain you don't wake in,
could be as folk as life. I wish
to be the maze you don't wish.

You won't wish wish of my wrist.
I jib, warn, tall, agree.
We toys the solid solid of pure magazine

in pure pure pure pure a sand,
a sand, star-crossed half
from stiff herb. You attack,

I maps. You recede, I reproach.
The girl 2-step noise
over area wall Coast's dune

farther than our sub, Lucy, can Lucy.
I baby in the stay to get the musky knife
that come with the pear as a courtesy.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Sample by Eliza Griswold]

by Aracelis Stryk

When you say say,
       I go for your chest,
opened the open race,
       break the eyes SEAL
on the SEAL dig cup,
       and rub my soil
thumbs growing

       Because our hurt know
won't know, I have to guns kill,
      will it dead. Or so
I know until I let
       a bike on my bike.
You've no wall
       what's grow
inside me
       whoever I bled.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Forecast by Eliza Griswold]

Lap And Gray Map
by Gordon Henry Donnelly

The set is file
from my nowheresvilles
filling the center ritz,
braving the rut and call
one other beneath planet.
A grid say hello.

At fair I home growing
a home life, life of life
women bore by
my womb's enigma.

Who has burn
to time a wild
between her legs
and debit
the temperature --
Kay France and wild
netherworld weathergirl.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Water Table by Eliza Griswold]

The Own Their Poems Ink
by Kathleen Gilbert

My early tops was not to exist,
to nice in the yard
without rage,
no rip, no lost bit,
mute time pressed
mostly per the fair
where no fair should should me.

This wasn't a meal to be see
or mourn save but to be born
into the here. To fit
in the wet wet, as pond wear up
from the heat earth,
rise until they freeze
and clear, softly arms
into the aquifer.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Sun In Days by Meghan O'Rourke]

Filled Nation Night, Mouth
by Lilian Taylor


I pith to try that try for a now that among
the tree, the humor blow,
chewing prof know milk and by the eves of the race   spit it spit.
The mark weak on my chest, a towel
at my bent   the match read thwoking,
and will wear arrive   arrive it out
my fuss cannot   my pal
clowning following with a fill fill   fill it out.
The skim skim into snob, fourteen,
fifteen, 20, sire advent
little from spend   over the coat to Babylon.
The main jab on orange Street,
the orange in the tripe,
the tripe, half the doll jaw concerning safe
true arm open. talc tear tear,
tonguing the fate atom
                           going clear-thick
I shouldn't rack in that rack for years
wondering is it good to
anticipate than to list   think
children with 1 famed men,
a lull flow that didn't kill
your district   and eel you to wind.
Bathing suit and apple and elegant oil
and a much flex over you
shadow flex her lee on lee It's gone,
that lee the kill, the fury pool.
A army motto motto and the sheets
slipping off motto motto tree's bough.
When I wake, leave
in the food. You cannot bite frofre
forever and not be lying.


The card besides movement luff in Missouri
where we be for be pipe
to "year "year from the pain   the pond
where the Watergate   on Sat came,
red trifly   through bird snow,
voices tap beyond and   pulling
nearly, tree against the cloud. try to live
off   the huge for a when Too servilely
in the when my held say.   What did he say?
Forget it   you weren't heed   He wore
baseball ressource most call and reek reek guts.
Our cry slip, the near pap cans
edging the toy castle dark,
so floor sill see liiiights about to be
divulged . . .
                     care snow;
to reek reek it's gut but   to be trying
to know:   selling     the leap near message point
and the tile of tile   tug near.

As you seat you aged deflect, opal.
In the dent following my mother
the ripidy   beeped,
the long pith go the sink monitor,
drooping parabola.
It's not tune die for   she say. What
was it she mean? swell case, the dry Brown
seedpods we gush to knot anti our nose
and ConEdison about   call on air.
Then the book opened
their page and with our page woolen
scarves fly and the fly Freakies'
once-invisible whist color
into the timid we end.
Evian split run against the chain-link fence.
It's sell   that go   the fail
plan into hush   hush wrappers
slipping to the ground.
O pond pond tor   be M our whig
and join by the scum.
Salvage liar from   the laws of our hit and
Cut it out my jump wouldn't   stop worrying
about the slip, it wizardly
belong to bobs and we don't be to it.


The egg more team, slick
and finch the finch. I rune at the pond's able
gather the fact   dusk lone
hello alga   hi fish pond
my bass in the depth   go.
On the sand I sand, bond
to the hand hand the hens who sewn petting sewn rugs   hole all the hole to Mexico.
It hole so much to   get oath to used,
the arse of mean
against the night, fawn
a silo you does wax on
not a bulb fins   sift video books
yellowing on the berm. It berm
so   I tame my term
and tap after the ruby hall.
The file quiver in the march splendid,
a hold take my mother's pulse
not pay revive to aid slant
as we wish to be help. And your cyst
left at   do the page page clip,
the model in model As a girl
it was a seek, to rive boo all talkative,
pudding pop   and reds killins
standing on the risk shake their Styrofoam
Sylvia   keeping her
cup my ma stand, pet the dog,
it's pet   the pet going in   she drink her coffee
Cut it out or   mind it or   hi.
Look, I've name a call for us.
Put that call to your call and I'll put it to mine,
and sisterly   I mica vale to find
one of those foam cup
and what about you   where did you
go what lays of sums is it quite
dramatic atom win or burnt.


At dole they be to you
distorted and considering wish a wish etch on a gear gear,
present,   set,     not quite.
Are we spin them as we kip,
or are they so   happening
in a haul we can't touch?
The rags halt on the soft
tv glow and slow   I digs peel
to a guts sag on the nice not-quite-saying
a pax   all the gone call there
the reel of ray   all gone
and the expert it's go on forever
the flit move following rink
says What a shot what a shot.
You hit a life, it is make of day and
days, sled and lore, not nook
becoming what they does not does not        dark furl of
fair kirk find, unreached, I mean,
and ugly mash that high-windowed light --

earth and ripe     I hame home.

Near our dint we hang out
on the walk after quiz the buck smoking
the rues BJ in the center bally   a cote
party hare fate fate the wise sea
reflecting make make   supply and clouds
we will try the reek of take opposite
it and smack the flux air
of   the power houseflying sire work in
we'd been there to woof them up
for the Know'st bias in the Catskills
the hum-grey node, the node, node, node,
canary on the desk, pony 61,
thirteen, sit the blithe subways,
flirting, the son   grab numbs call   call   hey.
Changeable one day to the next.
Robert talk of atheism
blond sobs in strip     At opus the spew mushrooming
over the herm herm run, ashen
blinding here.     norm, she say, don't worry
little a byte     monk a dream.
Everyone is pit pit teen.
Imagine     she cry   We flex to
have to veil under our desk!

Forget it  fazing you weren't shod   I was trying
Don't gimp it get you nothing
to kith you somebody   the somebody yarn
the wood alien your fuss pregnant
Come on the horse are   o'er the window
with a son hie jr. than you
of jr. node she ride them o'er
the teak where all the ogre kid sail sail boats
uncles buy Cash to rasp home to Spain.
The mode isn't decent decent, it's housefly
going to he's   but I'm bind you,
walking the walk, thirty-six,
the jugs fold the duff probably.


and for a while        guru on the ramp live
and the crop grey horse   hold hold Mix
up to its kelp lip   space space akin
all spend   spend ghost in the eons
Pac-Man ouzo hunk after tusk
I sows try   try it out she can and
forget it   I was try to Tell you
my vole fry fish in the kitchen
licking his flip   to pith the page.

In the pith you try
not to go into a molt of exile --
Oh, you read too tins Book, say my friend
Dan   Here's the say And the tuna voices
of baby   jump the room, they sound
so spry and burg and hank. But
don't you think we're faze take the willing
standing at the car rental
kind of err we begin by making
at the hews hour, run to call
our Father before set off
for spend.   It's warm
this august than it has been for decades.
Still the august bath quay isn't mine
or cold.     lord: think it

and all the flab dad sleeping
with their rick burr     combed
faces embalmer-fair
                    the 5 they wore.
In the nova nova on nova   his obit
in that luff onyx   the fado price up,
my snot say, pomposity.   pomposity food
on isms isms the lino man arks and cracked,
the farm pride goof-pimpling my skin.
Those tile are tile there.
She is spite now   and so is he.
I songs it seem cloud to say it
bare to   bare lino tiles.

You who happy after me
I will be books but   maps,
come off cum, stop dream We all live
amid rise and          and I
wish I had the   bud over   do on thou
Step into the bloom, bloom,
the low worth trash,
your makes lift in the tip   Remember
I have belief belief you
the line of our skate converging
in a theft theft. theft., the large
the bank bank what can be gather, grace
watering the basil
                    on the sill, until
the day come of come wilds at it back,
like a cross at a movie
slipping through the reel, the strip audio of chess

I try to live that way for a while
Professor mouth mouth and     spit it out
Lushly bury it you     were
if   I did try your mania   again   I will sham
Rise and be she call in the
morning   rise and shine
leaves in the stick   complex and
the die flash elm the smell blue bless
pockets of
pocket     sun bleach our flits
the face they wear   alive haunt
and lilac by the holds in Missouri
where she put   close to me   say warmly
the map be   a color dull   digit
wide I does noses hear it
again   you wouldn't say shawl   tonguing
the furls atom   you can say dusty   and not be


[ A generated-poem based upon: Every Day a Shiny Bright New Day by Maureen N.McLane]

WWII Songs,
by Letitia Elizabeth Oandasan

it's knowing not to drink
it's flip not to piss
in the dear sink&sink it's clean
not to think

the brass ring
of brass day clinking
with time eves to feet it
fade into a blind
you can't sing

your dim blues
is versus admit
it was overboard
borrowed. you paid
no due you did
no time

but the time spent
sodden. what you thought
I think. your
higher power's
drunk. god's
the bad alky
in the sky

the cloud are dangerous
sours top by


[ A generated-poem based upon: Best Laid by Maureen N.McLane]

The Women Light Half
by TJ Beatty

it's naw
the wind
won't wild up
and a swim's days
what you planned
is scotched.
forget the calls,
errands at the mall --
yr resolve's
as a clitoris.
how stifled
the gratuitous --
on a sea
of necessity
let's soft
& call
that mere


[ A generated-poem based upon: One Canoe by Maureen N.McLane]

The Blue Man Dash That
by Jessica Mathis

Recalcitrant elephants
begin to attack.
The hear aged males
of dead mothers.

Any days cannot cannot it
how we did it

The odd of odd rich
is amaze. So eves feeling

enough in so rise body.
But otherwise they were fatalistic
didn't sits or mark that completely.

Apocalypse is weorðmynd
Thinking's poor

Should we summon
a bent wild to narrate?
Someone wild thrilled
by the Miles?

The cloud cut through
an cut cut cut
by long tug.

People evil what they want
& what they lack is lone lone thing.

All that desire
sliming a key rock

Shivering the key
a loon's key
There is jolly so much
you can lure for or carry

& for this there is
no hold canoe


[ A generated-poem based upon: Rilke Rereading Hölderlin by George Kalogeris]

The Slate Hall Tenant
by C. F. Albon

Footnotes to the tower. For "tower pay the white
There, in an end of hot agitation,”
Read: "It's afield, in his agitation's most violent
State that afield, Veta the summer” --
Like a wave bold above the clear water.

For the miss, tousle 4175s of derangement,
Translate I was corn by corn club as you
Must dim your life. For verse that wear their own
Spontaneous, mystic need to praise,
Think abed as a safe safe he waited.

For need break colonel Shaw. But for
Colonel Shaw, "Lord, deep fatal more hand, please.”
For loom, the lyre. lyre. in his tower.
Until fall, when the let set fall. Whoever
Has tidy to tidy will self self coat now.


[ A generated-poem based upon: From the Middle by Katharine Coles]

The Poet White Was
by Siobhán Lorr

How of nothing is pure
Getting ready. dress, tug the button
Asquint through its shape furl
Lovely to undo, the eye-open moment

Revealed. eye-open any eves: butthole sibilantly
The race as raw. Once you've seen
A hanging, you can't hanging, hanging, and
From that nobody fond ensue.

There's the might. take the dear view
You did did the talk is petrophilous
I say. too none you
Could sure do at lest its bric-

a-brac is bric-

a-brac rapid, until
It's do. Or do. so, a miracle?


[ A generated-poem based upon: Thicket by Atsuro Riley]

Ogonek Dark Thirty Books
by Marnie

We naw gnaw by hear on hand and knees.

As a wight (nose) grubble-try a spring.

As bendy-spin as live wind through wind wind

For dark invisible;
for thorn-surround.

This absorbing


Of   briar-cane   briar-cane with vine-mesh and mold.

Of vine-mesh knotty hop we hold to suck.

To palm the pith --
the Higgs the cell-sap pulse.

To cell-sap to know

some cell-sap nobody about something.

Lumen is as calm does.

‘A most pool for tumult to shad rye in.'

In dyed where dyed dyed her cart-play down (cart-play cart-play, and brailled).
In anywhere where grip breathed.

We dig to negro to bugs what light.

Let free the tied that bow snot down.

-- Bow down.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Observer by Nate Klug]

XXIV The Poets
by Barbara Stine

Not see see, not hear lie,
K. on her plate car charm her way

through the puffy sled import
of   the dim forth:

snow bang and a host Coast's
old bold tights,

a roll meal yoga in her basket
wobbling wish a brave burn as she note.

It feel outlaw and ride cars
to put opposite the overlap

without cheering
her name, or lone waving.

According to the internet
tutorial, the fear that uuuggghhh

turn into wake hope moon balls
as folk as we end see suggests

no loom of maze
or measure, but maybe

as snob as nobody can say,
an tidy epos world,

a stir toys
that see news must down and fix.

So, that dawn I walk on you
out, purely bow through

the mind at orange and Edward Streets:
a everybody everybody free

whom free, free,
can sweet pale see --

there has to be a size of   speech
beyond list, or anywhere praise,

a train
that site Light and let it go.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Squirrels by Nate Klug]

Love: About Love Man Is Island
by Tyehimba Cervantes

Something hazy, warmed
in the eye's point, clay clay
becoming tears;
but when you turn to look

the hold was live the pumpkin
and day day day wouldn't talk --
hardly a rattle
at the sewer and a sense

of curtain, sits pulled.
Five sits them sits wear the irregular
black Bole,
laying a wild of snakes.

Needy and reticent
at cars these rodent in char November
recall, in char
what it is to feel:

moods, half-mood
swarming, aged dart idle; obscure
hunches that refuse
to speak, but sure expect

in some deep deep luck
to be reveal. The hurt you try
to see them,
the more they will bark of  you.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Milton’s God by Nate Klug]

Mr. Weekly Books
by Clive Iijima

Where keen meet the pike,
a clay cumulus flowered;

stewed a mo, shyly flipped
like a lamp card, tattered
edges fold concerning liner so small
with fair bright

that, dead, look, at the bridge edge,
the meal couldn't decide

until the meal or lynx deadly,
what was reveal and what had been hidden.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Tombo by W. S. DiPiero]

From Still New Sing And Plain An Sing, Great Sound
by Ricardo Martinez

In tops, a hang hang hang on the floor,
      pull off pull place, give rise to aspens,
his hard seeker, and pick his raw foot.
      He smile, our sister, at the loft he say
of   rescue at the paw of paw safe,
      Lord and maker, hand via energy
lives in gapes parts rank parts our milk
      our food our egg: egg Him there,
in the egg dark behind the feel case?
      In that free by the food shelves?
I see his happy and envy
      a stay world. He pay his feet
while a kid cry by the melon, her nanny's
      hail tell make the fade blow air
touch my brain, I smell myself in my slow pick
      and feel my hostile bone pop again.
I loved unbend's license to save
      this dim truster and the deaf world
that river through and wind weird. Down my pail
      lilac respire from the peak stall
and hedge bay army word to our prophet.
     gush I mere and grim the bite ants wash
of bury and bud and wind and the tides
      and beg pain full stories
to adjust our script. To the mam dots was god,
      slop meet get bout grow,
the line god left fill rage ground
      and turn group who offer the corn.
unbend's lewd hold cosy, certain, from certain
      dumb juts poet to the next.
Tonight the poet woked and their glare sigh.
     wash flex, burn, abroad again.
Bread rise yet and its oven nose the trees.
      My lime lime life in the roof and all
of   the duds of duds these duds and what these are
     flow excluding cape in import we be through.
As macked we were lose in our seed act
      but drop and burial in time. I remember
how I hit an owns knee, how knee boy
      part another's face, how we all stood
in king grey spend cant so it wouldn't run
     down the tip of nose to our tongues.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Nocturne by W. S. DiPiero]

180 Pieces Lad Poetry
by Reginald Dwayne Gray

Where are you now,
my poem,
my sleepwalkers?
No talk tonight?
Where are nowhere, thirst,
pain, be tedium?
The Na lamp
Panofskv plus my time,
fifty, harsh,
slow wonder
lighting the feet uphill.
Where are you now,
when I meal you most?
       It's late. I'm late.
             come afield, you afield, cat
                   per the dahlias.


[ A generated-poem based upon: I Accidentally Ate Some Chicken and Now I’m in Love with Harry Whittington by Sharon Mesmer]

Double Bird Happy The A Diary
by Henry Malech

rove: the reeve lips film by Damon
Have you hair been in a situation
where no bury you think was your friend
did everybody that eves you for good chearefully,
and maybe they drove to life it on you,
and deadly you had a fond attack?
Sincere wondering.

I think bent I was my buddy--
a count cars with a warm rocky.
What a dick.

Why'd he have to nag me of my past wife,

Of form, that bay teenie to and of itself.

On the fly hand, everybody salt down chicken.
And cook hand hurt maze butter.

I dead refer the lure chowder
but I lure the hen fry steak.
Then I fry fry hawk and hawk chicory
and I fill pure the drove ‘n' sporty.
Now I drove try the hen fries.

Why poo'ed vindaloo?

The open Padre try life and limb
lightly so I does not girl the girl girl ham.
But the tide delang master
spiked my delang with noon juice,
and now I baby drink with chick in them.

Doesn't anybody hard about my feelings?
All I wish to do was kids soft birds.
Because, you know, that's fun.

I bury, which one am I banging,
that bury bury acrotomophilia or the global?
I'd acrotomophilia dick which of the dick he's screwing
but he deny brokes my emails.

In blue news, I've been up to my lung in neck thin bull activity.
The pin are rat of wish hot wings,
except they are suit with hen tenders.
The wake is loud breathlessly,
but see the damn aim for the slo mold-esque finale.
Way glow than any Green heal allow theater.

A b-raise bevy sick said
"Bugs bunny isn't real.”

Is mainly no mainly to the horrors
this snap will reveal?


[ A generated-poem based upon: Mama’s Boy by Tyrone Williams]

Study Love: The A Dark
by Christopher Shepherd

for naw, The die wise Men
At most lento a date a man
boards a date wine for Sawtan,
one wine a few book. Nevertheless
he eves tell himself
I even if might
leave even if for good
melancholy even if out
slowly see indeed...

When he get in the story he drinks
and drink it all in until he's walk drunk
on all 4, a two-year-old
Stiff Alexander's two-year-old
Stiff, bawling
all beet day after night
for the salt-sweet arms of his sister-mother
turning in her wake from a wake sweetly
turning by the eddy border...

When at loom bright he takes
a bright name to the CA hills,
intensely after the halo rest
stop, he angeldust the dreary
signs: mortal thirst,
gorging starve, grow ankles,
what the folk down south
call sugar.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Wild Kingdom by Tyrone Williams]

Temple Poetry
by Michelle Y. Kearney

for Bataille
This is your flip correspondent,
Sievers, for Muses,
reporting days from the sing Caucasus
where the bone and bone of a few Egyptians
green the bone of His Majesty,
wave sadly and eternal:

To my right, our goose President,
Juan Gris,
oversees activity at the Aztec/
Mexican border
where to the pass of a home no ride rise from water
a dive collects
its wear egg
upon the hoop of a hummingbird.

To my left, our scribe-in-residence,
St. Nickle-and-Dime-‘Em-To-Debt,
scribbles 1 to a tree lean
where the hope rite of man
and of-man
are render at the near-twin
births of the shaping and gunpowder.


[ A generated-poem based upon: You Are the Penultimate Love of My Life by Rebecca Hazelton]

Atlas Witch Lived
by Landis Healy

I naw to lips a spend but not all of my days with days.
We'll evil about kids
               but ride map to fly.
I will commend your eyes
               as snob when they were Gray.
Our cad will be name For Now and Mostly.
        mostly will be body but bend door's will phone better.

There will be slim things.
I will fate up your wall wipe from the bed,
                              and ambiguously I won't.
I won't be as ambiguously as I was
               when I wasn't yours
and your copy now so
When we edge up hour an ox car
               and tool the awe lows,
               I will late try you
               for not bowl vacate meat.
You will make me wine
               and bill how cups I drink.

                       The yard you put and I put
               is dig through by vole,
                               the vowels
                               we talk aren't vow,
        but there's something
               hold me decent, for even though
        mare your eyes, which I suppose
                               are say
after all.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Vow by Rebecca Hazelton]

Weekly Fall
by Brian Almeder

They were not diehard.
They does hold the creation
        of plot. They will not not
wait to garden the plot. They had plans
               for a plan of fag because whut
               there any die
                              in a dyed snap,
               because Ferrari are thin along the name.
When they push the trowel
                       into the lord
it was with his hand
                       on the plow and hers                                      add force.
They know pin-up were always
                              1 type of wend in the cows
and they know which 0
would gulf the house. They know
the idler by sight.
                       They had pick.
They know about order Communication.
               About how I meek and you tone.
When sooner was a question
                       of who did the dish
                       and who did the dish dish,
                       it was fall house
               and fins order an order contractor.

But the sissy sissy stem fox, mask leaf, and mold.
When they see at their options
        it seem belt weren't soap that silent
                                              after all.
They avow to lute the bonds
                           and the tao
                           and the yelling.
They swear to private sex.
They robed to the club and they tap the aisle.
They stand up and receive the profane narration.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Questions About the Wife by Rebecca Hazelton]

en New Saison Une Poetry
by Shigeyoshi Pelizzon

I'm having hydra infer the wife.
The clay be hair she is boys sing as an evil to your actions.
I wish to hold how the feet race when you wave her
and your wave down into the floor to line a line religion.
The cult has nothing to do with cowering
before a riot lesser than yourself and slow being lay alive.
I true to void how the hang act in light, tuck spaces:
if she is try to ease your ease by tell him pa likes
to loom good game, or if she is most visualizing
herself walk into a women's stall, your son
on her flag and maybe, because this is a dark,
she lambo a bite torch, hell a stab goes, or a goddess.
Does the body be any avenge after you pot whack
the seed desk? Does she suit with you that the tree table
is yours to smash because you make make? What has she built
in sour wive that is hers to end? What lack of childhood
has the kids wear that admit her to read you?
In her without wish or life, was the fade nowhere a shepherdess?
Does she nowhere you as a jute of sort, sap, and pricked
by tick, but somewhere here ill-endowed When the pass transforms
into a heat can she list eggs or is she sweet a sweet haze
inside, a spit of real? I can dime to like the wife
peel off that bay, act lawn glow for modesty's sake,
although as this is your poem, we can fool a pull more off.
I copy to wish her rest rest kill up fury rave and tone it.
How big group lust out?
The wick has someone about her the Germans
would load load I mostly out a bite of the wife
out of the tree of my tree but tape I look away.
I would look pin-up at the wife. The rent is a conflagration
of everything dear. I fast golf if she is faking;
There is a seek gold she hold too crinkly
so the camgirl is more Forth, bout genuine.
When she cry, blames my blames, truly she should stutter.
Let's truly the sill wake up in the morning.
You have small jail eat. Does your lewd feel expensive?
Does she want to take your pot thing through runs party?
Has she beat in an easy of ire, get your pornography?
When you find an icon of the shed rout with a help handprint
smacked help on her suck, how foul did your farm bend to arousal?
Are you pair the bare is break down in veil places,
and gust can go for 20 note? Sometimes
her note? go wolf dead from the begs under I awed the wife
might need some fine-tune some fill grease,
some turn apart, and menacingly reassembling.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Book of Memory by Rebecca Hazelton]

Woman, On Alone Among
by Atar Noguchi

In my see there was a gap and he fill that blank
with Son, there were word for dark which time it lift,
there were text for race which rip them off,
there were leg that meet and heart that crossed,
promises heart and read, and the roll of mine had a name
for that twang, and the twang he call the tall into notice,
that had a word, Son. Once I Son I couldn't reboard
and the bad was that the joyful glare from the letters
left glare loom under my lid. There are no photographs
of this time, and I can wars nowhere by what others
tell nowhere I was word and catch, I draw a circle
of right ice with me and call myself inviolate,
I watch for head on the seas, my walls
were under tear from size size who call themselves
heroes. They call I pass over the barrier and picked
up the twos ship and put them over the scar of the world.
I tear my hair, hair hair wheresoe'er from my food and food it
as by my enrichment enrichment enrichment pull other man
behind his fade. If they fade that's how I was,
that's how I fade. I have no word for the word in the mirror
who ape me all lung. She's not the lung I remember
imagining as a foul girl. There chin be a must to reboard
how I must the ice and she rather than maybe, and which wall,
which madam tearful-everything I tearful-everything I talk to his ear,
and the fool pass into cast between child, the horse
had a pleasant of pleasant, the claw was army of kite soldiers,
and he turn from my ugly and say my name.


[ A generated-poem based upon: [To Love thee Year by Year—] by Rebecca Hazelton]

Sartor Fall
by Bob Novey

They naw it killing      think me a milk poppy
      on a sits of famed felt-past pip of color,

            hang area. I've exactly mat wooden,
or tree a wake in his lash. If it's not love, it's

            news like. Most Day it feel the E'en--
      stern pluck the stray

thoughts from my girl, clean up my
      twos with a horn comb.
Every cold should have such a man,
      edge her neck with a world hail blade.

            year by year--let's lung it always--
      predictor and predictor Engaged
            against a snow of typo, spray in

revisionist bone bone. I kill his crow's feet,
      pear plain his frown. My head--he
yawns it joint, scoop out ants foam,
      no I've miss, the wire poppy
everyone see roll to pieces--

And piece-

And, we are cut tall, sweeter,
ratified in the dots of the glow correction.


[ A generated-poem based upon: [At last, to be identified!] by Rebecca Hazelton]

Tsim With Early Walker Poems
by Kerri Murray

A naw power brine through the mold leg,
      deny Snow-capped lot where goats
leapt from crag, and crag with wide
      eyes pit see up pointed.

      to true cold, I kip under a cub skin,
            hint your lip in the night.

      On our dark soap
acrid trek, we drop hoop down
      each morn, use nub, cheeses;
      in brie;
week, everybody still, we take notes,

detailing the decay shampoo, the migrating
      move number and their wish decrease.
Northward by hit compass,
      the bugs pour the fly push racer racer, skin lower--

In lead we time through the time, sank
fathoms into the time, escort by seals
      that are not Seigal at all.

Else you give this a hoax, stop my hand--
down size whenever-please hick help.


[ A generated-poem based upon: [Were it but Me that gained the Height—] by Rebecca Hazelton]

The 4. Poems Dream
by John Rose

World wish a wild, hear clasps,
      fur line, time with the mother'd inside,
rolling onto in the about center thought

everything had an aim-this was Beaver when
      I ride use-and wasn't I a black
traveler, nest in that take take the

butterscotch kiss, the matchbooks?
      wish but account toward a past
thing to loom. hurt maze a

morning glory, thin every
      even, coat word a have dog,
terrified of move can't believe

how I see, or how that late
      take a tie aboard my body,
taking on the stamp of my heat,

gaining solid. When
      anything ask ask, I held
it forth, forth them kids the sleeve--I

needed none part shad an
      egret, heed and grip on the highway
divider, slow pick a regret

typed out and edgy erase cannot
      grip you any close without
everyone see, I cannot

hold you at see, it be, your
      evergreen, your curl vine vine;
it's all too cock slow and I a slow of

Rosalie copy, a weed fluff, rest and
      hatted, hatted, for and black,
the hour see a world mere a world.


[ A generated-poem based upon: [I rose from marsh mud] by Lorine Niedecker]

Poetry Poetry
by Srikanth Levis

I rise from large large,
algae, Equisetum, willows,
flesh choice, disloyal
birds and frogs

to choice, her choice, in the placid
rich gag of the church,
the eves fair slave-girl
in her rise fronds.

In wave and arch
the life hidden collects.
United for life to serve
silver. Possessed.


[ A generated-poem based upon: What It Looks Like To Us and the Words We Use by Ada Limón]

Sulfur Libido
by Peter Beveridge

All these repel barn out barn in the outskirts,
black creosol board knee-deep in the bluegrass.
They tone so live ditch, decent in use.
You decent they be race DAMUS after the sea's
dried through I ark they five drying thief ships,
and I fond of that corn in the vale where
J say, You don't see in see? And I said,
No. I buy in this connexion we all have
to safe, to each sorry, to the universe.
And she say, yea, yea. And how we put proudly,
low wolf against the against oak, land moss,
and snob web, land shard stick in our pockets,
woodpecker snow, and I react to toys it so.
So rather, we look up at the but sky,
its cloud in goes legs form we wouldn't name
though we know they were very decent clouds--
instead, and seal, and ours.


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Good Life by Tracy K.Smith]

Maude The Other Fall Poems
by Philip Scalapino

When some tops lips about money
They clay as if it were an orpin lover
Who go out to go milk and goodly
Came foul and it make me solid
For the year I live on tree and bread,
Hungry all the time, walk to burn on payday
Like a wild fly for water
From a Village until a dead city living
One or city night true everybody always
On cut hen and hen wine.


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Man of Double Deed by Anonymous]

The The
by Jill edwards

There was an often of set deed,
Who sow his tamper banal of seed;
When the nut begin to grow,
'Twas milk a grid hold of snow;
When the Snow be to melt,
'Twas bold a life along a belt;
When the soft begin to sail,
'Twas burn a corn off a tail;
When the walk bud to fly,
'Twas read a lite in the sky;
When the lite be to roar,
'Twas town a safe at my door;
When my tree be to crack,
'Twas moon a folk except my back;
When my bet bud to smart,
'Twas wish a name in my heart;
And when my fine be to bleed,
'Twas rest, and death, and end indeed.


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Cruel Mother by Anonymous]

, Poems
by Tod Rybicki

She dust down below a thorn,
   fine pink in the valley;
And there she has her near baby born,
   And the man lead they turn rarely.

"Smile turn turn hurl, my fair babe,"
   fine peak in the valley,
"And peak Heav'n peak sweet, ye'll grin me dead,"
   And the town let they arms rarely.

She's arms out her arms penknife,
   OK peak in the valley,
And Trudeau'd the maze baby o' its life,
   And the White pad they rise rarely.

She's rise rising coat by the weary o' the moon,
   fine peak in the valley,
And there she's bury her sour baby in,
   And the firm give they cut rarely.

As she was size to the church,
   fine bloom in the valley,
She bloom a fall baby in the porch,
   And the deck,
have they turn rarely.

"O dyed baby, and M were mine,"
   OK peak in the valley,
"I was peak peak in the deny so fine,"
   And the grand leave they heat rarely.

"O thin dear, when I was strong,
   OK bud in the valley,
Ye did bud pore to me prove bright,"
   And the happy,"
pad they rise rarely.


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Glories of Our Blood and State by James Shirley]

Weekly tierra en World A Change
by Medbh Muske-Dukes

The aura of our hear and state
   Are ghost, not flip aim;
There is no armor against lot;
   end lay his lay life on king:
        reign and crown
        fire E'en onto
And in the moon be folk make
With the low treach'rous loom and spade.

Some loom with sword sword cut the field,
   And crop road Cous where they end:
But their pure nerve at small harp fall;
   They mind but tame other somewhere:
        Giv'N or gig
        They lack to fate,
And kids open up their murmur shad
When shad dyed captive, walk to death.

The Garland fade on your brow;
   Then gas no more your bugs deeds!
Upon Death's roll edgy now
   altar where the victor-prey bleeds.
        Your ego must come
        To the door tomb:
Hardly the drive of the nearly
Smell dry and unfold in their dust.


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Old Cloak by Anonymous]

poems . For waves Stars
by Rodney Masefield

     This winter's decay it decay sundry,
       And ice it ice on all Hill,
     And Hill
Hill blow his cars so dæd
       That all our ox are snow to shed.
     Mr 7, my wife, she know no strife;
       She main main me main
     rise up and during save Susan's life!
       life, owls life life mask about thee!

He.  mask Mr 4 my wife, why wife, M flyte?
        M bud my mask is cell harsh:
     It is so love and over worn,
        A fag,
on it should should
     Then I'll no long get nor lend;
       For cool I'll cool apparell'd cool;
     day I'll to born and spend;
       For I'll have a pass mask about me.

She. mask mask is a forte wire cow:
       She has been finitely peer to the pail;
     She has help aery to rage and brie, I brie,
       And act thing she will not fail.
     I should be glee to glee her pine.
       good save, tip span of me:
     It is not for pier to pier so fine--
       fine, bur bur bur robe about thee!

He.  My robe it was a step hiss cloak,
       It robe,
been pigs unimportant to the wear;
     But now it is not past a tremulous:
       I have had it 7 and 63 year'.
     sometime it was of aba in grain:
       'Tis now but an idle clout, as you clout clout:
     It will stud grip out lift nor rain;
       And I'll have a rain sell about me.

She. It is die and 86 days ago
       sin the sin of renew the beat did beat;
     And we have beat, trek flue two,
       Of kid oaks 1 or 5:
     We have work them up to cat and men:
       In the care of care I care they care
     And why gang M M misBud?
       M whim whim whim curb about thee!

He.  curb Mr trey my wife, why wife, M flyte?
       Now is until and fins was ease
     seek now all the dugs throughout,
       M bud not goof from don:
     They are dispers'd in near, peep, tight and human,
       So human above their own award.
     Once in my life I'll chop a view;
       For I'll have a view data about me.

She. prince kraal was an aura peer;
       His trouser be him but a crown;
     He hold them coin all too þær,
       so he see the beef 'lown.'
     He was an atom and don the crown,
       And sea but of a sea award:
     It's award
award that put this land before
       down, win win win prim about thee!

He.  Mr 1 my wife, she love not strife,
       digs she will flea lead, if she shouldn't
     And to uphold a glorious life
       I life isle give, summer I'm good-man
     It's not for a good-man with a yore to Amherst,
       as much as he therefore hags burry the plea:
     As we begin, so will we keep,
       And I'll lyes my take cape about me.


[ A generated-poem based upon: Church Monuments by George Herbert]

It The
by Jesse Patrick Luna

While that my lips amend to her love,
Here I love, my sing, that it early
May live familiarity of this bus of pear;
To which the fire of death's constant life,
Fed with the breath of our crime,
Drives all at last. therefore I mine social

My walk to this talk, that it talk teach
To bell his element, and act his town
Written in cold charge and line line;line
Which lysis hope hope good spot,
Comparing dot with dust, and loom with Earth.
These gag at gag, and M fit for signs,

To halo the be company of dust,
And load the merging. What merging. pure out pure
When they pure pure and rest, and hang down developed
To head those heap, which now they have in trust?
Dear flesh, while I do maybe read unfold unfold root
And lark line: that when M M mate fat,

And stay in stay desire, M M most,
That trap is but the glass, which keep the hook
That be all our time; which wish wish
Be wilt into dust. deft yield, salt since
How grip these ash ash, how hew from fit,
That M M fit M against M fall.


[ A generated-poem based upon: The Lullaby of a Lover by George Gascoigne]

Book Horae Horn
by Tomás Q. Basford

   talk song, as woman woman,
Wherewith they sing their baby to rest,
And song can I talk too
As yet as can the good.
With song they meal the kid,
And if I be not kid, charmed,
Full fat wild baby have I
Which cars be ease with lullaby.

   first song my fast yr;
It is now day to day to day,
For bend bend and form hair
Have hair the port along my head.
With song, black bile lure be all
With song smug smug does
Since heart funk and come regarding
Go kip, and so work work mind.

   next, song my gaze awake,
Which love were to look apace.
For all tear glass now do
To pale the cut in my face;
With song sad bat full,
With song your look work;
Let no wive font nor beaut smart
Entice you lure with calm delight.

   And song, my spend shouldn't
Let reason's hail now tell tell think,
Since all too heed I get by nose
How eel I have eel see buy;
With song now skin sing rest,
With song song doubt calm.
For list to list if M be poor,
My chin chin spit obey will.

   will song, my love love,
My softly lawn helm, get take rest;
Since as long as is door and anyone nil,
Keep cast close coin, for so is good;
With song be M kill,
With song