Notes For 00001 01... made into a poem

looning

moon lumin with the breeze
cutting out uglies
cookie dough shadows
wailing hands in the trees
leaves clipped from the earth
cursed in rebirth before the projector
recurring all this wit and tangle
strangulates my solitary mood
and pensive strides
breaks my face into mirth
mad-mad impractical and inefficient
life complimenting simian laughter

MARK (poem)
MARK (notes)