What Happens After Midnight When the Poet Experiments with Whatever is in the Test Tubes
Bore
\ /
to
the
Core
of pulp and water snow
where all can be
found
Find
/ \
Kind
lines
(gel ink sans ballpoint)
…
or
…
the source
of
our requited respited remorse
…
or
…
the hard headed heart
the part (of you) that
revirginates all starts
6 thoughts on "What Happens After Midnight When the Poet Experiments with Whatever is in the Test Tubes"
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Feel free to pass this poem by. I really was just spitballing, Lincoln logging. (That last sentence was better than the entire poem.) No apologies; there are times when you just want to play with words, looking for something new. Sometimes you do; sometimes you don’t. Today was a don’t. See you Monday.
I like that you shared part of your process with us. There are elements here that I could see turning into something else completely in another poem. Thanks for sharing this with us!
Lol, I love the title and be sure and use this in a poem somewhere “I really was just spitballing, Lincoln logging.”
I like this experiment. Some of these lines have real heat. Good to keep and see where they may go!
Beautiful monster from Dr Frankenstein’s lab…
Your process description could be part of the poem. Those last lines are definite keepers. Nice one, Lee.
I love this peek behing the curtain! Thanks, Lee.