Hey all, just whipped these lines together as kind of an appreciation of lit's violent magic. Feedback's great; hope summers are being enjoyed.
Wordpiece for a wordsmith
Jordan Kaye
Words.
The Invisible Word Man
eats porridge so that his incisors remain an apt means of impingement.
Inside incisions produced by verse which rests in the flesh of my arm,
virulent verse forcing its way through channels that collapse capriciously.
Vitality inverted, my lifeblood is being vacuumed; The Oreck is engaged by the page and his plain print siblings.
How funny a thing to succumb to. Just verse. Verse plain. Verse Simply. Strictly Verse that happens to be the most utterly dominatory force that I’ve so far encountered.
Collins and an unclad Emily are ushering the way out for me- that me which is contained within the air sealed realm of the dust drop.
Yes, Big words fare well against waterless structures, the interstitial tissue dust giving under the lecherous legacy of grammarians and gilded ghosts.
Thanks, Harper Lee, because you took the fight right out of me.
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