Directions: Write a line, pass. The next person writes a reversal of your line, and then folds over your answer. The third person writes a reversal of the immediately preceding line, but cannot see any other lines. Repeat as long as desired.
Players: David Gallahan, Hazel Cline, Steven Cline, Charles Becker, Max Cafard – April 25, 2023
Another book through books and looks. Over the stairs.
The book unbooked disgazes under the stars.
The empty pages stare fixedly toward the empty sky.
An overflowing leaf shies away from the pregnant earth.
Pregnant earth shyly overflows in leaf.
Aether boldly contracts the fertile bud.
Boring lumps collapse, amid the barren brine.
Entrancing pits expand, outside the fruitful spring waterfall.
Mundane clouds evaporate within the fruitless winter desert.
Blossoming oases yield fruits of meaning.
The iceberg lettuce face is chased by time.
Chaste time faces lettuce on iceberg.
The Harlot’s space sits prone under the pond.
The Zealot’s place streaks alone across the yond.
An apathetic epoch stands still in a crowd clustered in the kitchen.
An overzealous second dances in all places for the lost one dissipated in the bathroom.
Bathing lost dissipate dances overzealously.
Liberal stillness increases overt dryness.
The covert moisture quells the stingy din.
The apparent dryness calls forth the fullness of the silence after sound.
Camels floating through the forest.
The trees waft between the camels.
Caramels crumble under unrooted waifs.
Unharvested sugar expands over its roots, its family.
Well picked peppers shrivel inside her limbs, her shadow doubles.
Her double’s shadow shrivels limbs into pickled peppers.
Singular her core rises out of sweet treats.
Sour tricks descend from his double periphery.
Richly flavored gifts rise above its infinite nowness.
Flavorless insults sink down below the limited eternal.
It seemed that all sank into the scheme.
You looked as though you rose from the wave that was every wave.
I intuited that you fell from the mountain that was no mountain.
Mountain, you are no mountain my intuition fell.
Flats along the automatic plains.
Spring springs among spontaneous skeins.
Stillness falls outside of plans and lines of reasoning.
A cacophony flies inside chance and the curves of unreason.
Reason lines up for buzzing silence.
Exploding forms create quiet random noise.
A diminishing of doors in an infinite hallway.
Your multiplying of closets is the stoppable sphere.
Spheres stop closet multiplication.
Divide the squares, begin in the open.
Multiply ye squires, your end is closing in!
Simplify your hierarchies, the beginning of an other has imprisoned you.
Expand out our chaos, the final moment of your own self has set you free.
Final momentous freedom selves into expanding chaos.
At the start, limits form the Kosmos beyond.
In the end, the boundless explodes the chaos within.
