Evening all...or any of the very few people still reading this epic poetry journey I'm making. Yeah, I know guys, calm down! Poetry is awesome and really a real thing in the public eye! I get that what I'm doing is really stirring shit up here, but just deal, yeah?
No recycled poems today, this is brand new and coming at your eyeballs like the wrong side of a flashlight. Bonsoir!
The Mulberry Initiative
Upon examination the body was found
to contain deeply coded messages
etched onto the shadowy curves of the joints.
They had been written while the body was still alive,
but it’s unlikely to have caused any pain.
We can say things like that, because we actually don’t know anything.
When the bones were cracked open,
seventeen knitting needles were extracted
from their tubular innards.
There are teams working around the clock,
knitting an exact replica of the Coso Range.
In doing this, we hope to find freedom,
at which point, it will be hefted into boxes
shaped like catamarans. These boxes
will be burnt while spectators sing about falling off chairs.
The heart and lungs of the body
were bought by an anonymous bidder,
who chose to pay with their own heart and lungs.
The transaction was carried out online
and the delivery has yet to be received
due to a postal strike over font disputes –
many postal workers are offended
by the use of Times New Roman,
citing it as “old-fashioned”, “ageist” and “racist”.
The trial continues.