A little truth, if you don't mind...

An exceptional reason for distraction is garbage in any form
A truth then,
While the effigies sleep foregone notes knaw at pedigree particulars like ascendancy to a quack.
Too many gaps.

But they're not in my mind, they're in the matrix.
Maybe I created them? But nah, I wanna loose the game... It's ******* *******, doubt it even exists.

So poetry is meant to be seen, and it works that way, as an art piece

But when it's inherently dutiful, it can't at the same time not take on the form of art in some way.

The essence of vessel poetry is that it is maudlin, quaint, robotic, ironic, too susceptible to literary criticism, defiled by social criticism icism, hand made by ether, quarked upon, stolen, has the breath taken out of it, edited, and investigated. Also farquaimed, easy peasy to unbutton, but difficult to be in sync with, frustration echoes from it that it's not understood in sync, has frostbite, doesn't belong on this planet, casts aspersions on the second eye, wears you down, is like house ware, is too obsessed with sound,p thaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat last a especially! I had to think of the word one trillion or rather number to get that last a put which defies the patterns k was making previously or my own autonomy but if autonomy is a pattern that's what I don't like about my poems. Even though they're y seem eleqouent or whatever technically they're all failures. Thaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaonetrillion. (The last one trillion is a that) Writing done. May the judge ******* and stop being corrupt. At least get rid of Theresa I mean she can't make it as a lawyer can she? Haha human spies. Say hi to the devil for me.....😭