Zac does Sped and toddles
JLo does Tankgle and You break the blank into bite sized bullets
Erika does Who killed Bambi?
Mark does 2 Loss Lieder, Macro and The mumble core
and he does 353 & 354 from Poet X: a treatise re: verse(d)
and Block form #5 in yellow and green
and Adaptive control of optical beam jitter
The group does Petrophobia This polyphon was spontaneously composed. Mark and Erika ran out of gas on the way to the meeting, so like that's where it "came from". Three of us were improvising and one was typing (you can hear it in the background). The textual by-product is below.
petrophobia
dire falls in the milling, and degrees of counter-institutions
imagistic and rent-focused and someone yelling, slapping at
other professionals and who had left office in the silence
arrival urged in the sense of fear for amplitude as troped
across the broken express file and containing the queens'
intro to the island and passage to others which would foster
the mainframe and compu-bombadiering and fairly machine halts
though generations are on the way, planning to break breath
slope time in the transfer, foaming in the black of cleavage
fever down in the going and I will now attempt to draw a map
different from the flanking spaces of porous passages, so
foaming at the mouth curtain exceed the exercise from naked
and selected genders for fortunate coils and displacement
like clorox soaped the phage for tits and pleading with a mask
mismanagement of brusque allure pokes an archaic elevator
spigot me for once a dozen communities of steel lifeblood
in addition to quiet hill country doors on the gold mean limit
truce for intersection and droid frugal deterioration scanner
BART more is fragment bankrupt and socialist for the speedo
counterinsurgency beyond the experiments of parts for parts
cine come the mysterious endrust and skins clip singing
peed parties: the slow pace of geddy and has ontic lenses,
in other words all the times in which large portions of the foam
with third-person hospitality chasm that appears to snuggles over
some remnant where we know clearly burls already in the
typset pleasure--or anhedonia only spoken released while small antlike atoms whisked crunch
sine space ptomaine blob methane not a cactus but having hooked tarsi catching
nothing but painfully letting you know the body has been penetrated and can't
heal itself oddly enough
without bleach rococo or baroque infections flies
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