Thanks for participating, folks. Here is the result (in the order they arrived, no alterations):
Instead, I sat in the car and read a map and spelled out entire sentences with my tongue on the roof of my mouth, where nobody could read them. Your minds and memories'll be totally absorbed. He grasped my hand weakly, and as I thanked him for the interview he blurted out "love you!"’ DON'T WASH OFTEN ALWAYS WASH INSIDE OUT NEVER WASH IN HOT WATER "How often do the robots stop by to visit and reconnoiter and update?" she wanted to ease the boredom a little But in lambasting the evil hegemony of the discursive practices of the powerful, I am, at times, keenly aware of my own power in this constructed space of the classroom. He tried to lay hands on my broken bone, whispering, “Jesus. Jesus heal this man.”
The players/sources:
line one: lisa b., from Badlands
line two: lisa b., from Invasion of the Body Snatchers
line three: clint
line four: sleepy-e, from GAP
line five: sleepy-e
line six: dr. write
line seven: ron
line eight: middlebrow
If you want to play again, additional entries are being accepted.
4 comments:
It seems we have a "hands" theme mixed in with soem good/evil, clean/unclean.
I think you should delineate and repunctillyate this stuff like we did in our Google poetry phase.
Ron's picture is also huge.
no, no, I like it the way it is. that's the point of the game, right, to take things as they come, to string together the un-stringable--something like that.
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