Directions: First player writes a statement, any statement. Next player tries to write a reversal of that statement. Next player tries to write a reversal of the reversal. Etc. (Players: AM, K, SC, HC, MB, BL, SM)
A shipwreck divides into islands of missing rings and lost desire.
An airplane loft unites the continents of discovered holes and found fears.
A warship seaband divides the oceans of unknown surfaces and lost loves.
Lost loves and unknown surfaces are divided by an ocean warship seaband.
Found hate or known mirages aren’t united in a river’s grace.
Lost love and mysterious realities fracture outside the sky’s vengeance.
Rediscovered hate or obvious simulacra inside the earth’s hate!
Forgotten loves and cryptic truths outside a planet’s desire.
If planet’s could desire, outside of them would exist forgotten loves and cryptic truths.
Unfeeling space, within must be inextinguishable hatred and clear-cut falsehoods.
It is murderous to ignore the wave of a tree.
When trees wave, don’t murderously ignore them!
Where smoke stops, make sure to healthfully pay attention?
When the clear, clean breeze extends, let your mind wander and be free.
As a heavy, dirty wave collapses, my skin reforms, and I am chained.
Before the light, clean wind upwells, your viscera dissolves, but you are free.
After the dirty darkness in the water drains, rocks form and enslave you.
Before a plastic weightlessness in the cloud lightens, the fish fall apart, and embrace you.
After many wooden weights underground grow heavier, the birds come together, and disavow you.
Before the single leaden breath above decays lightly, the worms diffuse and affirm me.
The willow tree broke my window.
An oak stump fixed your wall.
A rock mountain broke my moat.
Many velvet hills sealed your bridge.
Your fate is sealed by velvet hills.
My death isn’t opened on rough surfaces.
Your life is closed below below your insides.
My death as an opening above or inside my spirit.
Your birth was the closing over the outside all of your bones.
My death was not the opening beneath my inner flesh.
Your existence was the wall on top of your exterior spirit.
If your spirit is a wall, your existence lies on the exterior atop it.
I feel like a mint jalopy just entered me!
You don’t hear the pint of milk as you vomit it up.
I can taste an emptiness of toast in a swallow of your dirt.
You cannot hear the wholeness behind fresh bread outside an excretion for my water.
Listen to the emptiness of rancid meat, in the inhalation of your breath.
As you inhale, listen to the emptiness of your rancid meat.
I’m farting, speaking of the fullness of my fresh fish.
You breathe in, listening to the emptiness of old livestock.
I suffocate outside, deaf to the cacophony of new flesh.
I inhale life within, listening to the silence of old bones.
The song of the whale makes me heart into liquid.
The sentence of the dolphin suggests your mind solidifies.
The nonverbal cue the ostrich interprets has his body turning into a pile of mush.
A linguistic fart for the jellyfish sings while angels cease inside pindrops of jewels.
The mute inhalation of a hard bird croaks before humans begin outside cannon blasts for pebbles.
The raucous exhaust of a soft ship screams after aliens cease inner unorthodox whispers for marbles.
“This is for all the marbles!” the alien whispered, as the raucous exhaust of its soft ship screamed.
“Thank you for the jello,” said my grandmother. Later that day, the quiet gasoline of cargo sang so quietly.
The forest is aflame with the spirits of the deceased.
The desert is frozen with the bodies of the living.
The bodies of the living freeze in deserts.
Dead minds melt in ice.
Living bodies freeze in lava.
Zombie specters burn as snow.
The reborn dead grow as trees.
The pre-birth death, decaying clouds.
Dying clouds, birthing death, bummer.
Living earth, dying birth, yay!
Dead space, rebirth, oh woe!
The wheels on the bus go round and round.
The stones besides the bike stop squares once.
The gelatin inside the cruise ship triangulates repeatedly.
A stone above a slug plane circles once.
The sand below the centipede boat triangulates many times.
The sky above the worm diffuses, but only once.
The mantle of the earth beneath the bird expands, and always twice.
Mantle tectonics only move twice, look out birds!
Lintel oceans often stay still forever. Mammals aren’t speaking?
Tomato soup deserts never stop moving. Noisy fucking camels.
Beefy forests remain at rest…Whispering lovely needles.
The time and place of the murder is inconsequential, it’s the smell in the air that gave the crime its lasting notoriety.
A statue or void in birth is sublime, like a touch of my earth, take a blessing w/ short ephemerality!
The painting and singularity of death was tormenting, rather than a taste for your sky, give a curse w/o long eternity.
The music and banality of life was boring, in addition to the smell of the earth, praise the short blinking of existence.
The humdrum vividness of death excited me, minus the sound of hell, curse the drawn-out whole note of my disappearance.
The loud blurriness of life dulled you, plus the touch of heaven, love the pieced-together partial pieces of your finding.
A silent focusing on death sharpened me, I minus your wind of hell, hating the growing apart whole-god in my lostness.
