"metastasizing" poems - Hello Poetry

unsure, uncertain, of the laws invested in the realms and reams of poetry ingested, am i addict, or supplier, retail consumer or wholesale supplier, a mom & pop candy store, or a metastasizing intelligence that takes any thing, and all, a solitary letter, an instance of a sighting, a gasping palpitation and reformats it into a hehe literary madhatter^ piece you supply, I demand, I supply, boy oh boy, do I ever, but you never, come to me directly asking, write me a poem, thick or thin, witty fitty or an overly looooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooong e~pistle (a/k/a e~pistol) yet the trade goes on and om, the marketplace never closes, except when periodically the gatewaykeeper is slow to pay his bills, and the trading centres are global scattered, young entrepreneurs try to sell a single piece, as if it was breaking news history, and tired old men, review their lived, eager to memorialize, so it's ok to forget, in retro!spect perspective, the mirror who cannot lie, states affirmatively, you are both ****** and dealer, a corporation scientific of ancient biblical origins, a psalmist, a deacon, a lyricist, but thankfully not a singer, an essayist who writes best when ****** by tawny port wine, who snatches inspiration with equality of equity, (wait! that's wrong, the equity of equality,) where he can find, ***** city streets, the deaths of heroes, the sunrise calm miracle he drinks in daily, by rivers, by seas, by estuaries brackish, and streams of watered purity, the riveting bays, the individualized glisten deflected into my eyes, that each contains one pure blessing within…. nml

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Sep 27, 2025

Sep 27, 2025 at 9:24 AM UTC

nat-lipstadt

Supply & Demand, Demand & Supply

unsure, uncertain, of the laws invested in the realms and reams of poetry ingested, am i addict, or supplier, retail consumer or wholesale supplier, a mom & pop candy store, or a metastasizing intelligence that takes any thing, and all, a solitary letter, an instance of a sighting, a gasping palpitation and reformats it into a hehe literary madhatter^ piece you supply, I demand, I supply, boy oh boy, do I ever, but you never, come to me directly asking, write me a poem, thick or thin, witty fitty or an overly looooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooong e~pistle (a/k/a e~pistol) yet the trade goes on and om, the marketplace never closes, except when periodically the gatewaykeeper is slow to pay his bills, and the trading centres are global scattered, young entrepreneurs try to sell a single piece, as if it was breaking news history, and tired old men, review their lived, eager to memorialize, so it's ok to forget, in retro!spect perspective, the mirror who cannot lie, states affirmatively, you are both ****** and dealer, a corporation scientific of ancient biblical origins, a psalmist, a deacon, a lyricist, but thankfully not a singer, an essayist who writes best when ****** by tawny port wine, who snatches inspiration with equality of equity, (wait! that's wrong, the equity of equality,) where he can find, ***** city streets, the deaths of heroes, the sunrise calm miracle he drinks in daily, by rivers, by seas, by estuaries brackish, and streams of watered purity, the riveting bays, the individualized glisten deflected into my eyes, that each contains one pure blessing within…. nml