As the Clutter Museum curator, a good deal of my time is spent sorting and ordering, then categorizing and renarrating, imposing new meanings on things that long ago lost theirs. In that spirit, today I bring you three short poems I've reconstructed from phrases in my e-mail. (And no, not all of it comes from spam.) Brownie points to those who can identify my favorite line.
In a solemn sort of rapture
Obtain one large, unhappy, live octopus,
Wheezing ravens. . .
You could alternate them every 30 minutes all day for 2 weeks
--then everyone would have to rejoin.
Ain't gonna happen.
Identified by the central filters as
just plain crappy,
she's raged all afternoon.
recommends an immediate upgrade,
like the creation of every other sculpture.
may be an assbackwards approach.