Writsurd

Get the feeling
Making the same poem
Over, over, an over
Turnover
Far past over easy
Yoked to hard spots
Unmoving, internals
Vital measures indeterminate
Again
Absurdity, language
Again
Nonsense, words
Again
Filaments, ancient lightbulbs
Again
A hundred years, post-modernity
Mix cocktails
Two parts dirt
One part soil
A thousand parts repetition
Maybe a seed
And you'll have a redwood forest

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