Genre: Flarf poetry
Humanity’s Collective Oulipo Experiment
by Jeffrey J. Garrett
Nights will flaunt life
to perilous laughter. It’s not all that bad.
An inability to join in, anyway,
it was the Saturday of the football game.
Sometimes they live in an occupied country,
and the occupying power has no intention of the world.
Pretty colorful, isn’t it? Sure, it might do just as much good to yodel
a taunting, singsong melody repeated a shocking number of times
over a twangy electric rhythm section that appears
to have gone insane.
The following are links to some movements of loneliness and like that:
while researchers suss out such questions,
to have complete fealty to the truth,
photographs of people in both pleasant settings
and unpleasant settings
to remember times with friends, thus suggesting that we can actually feel social chills
connecting with them.
What a party animal, right?
Obituaries are instances of journalistic biography.
A stylized mask that was also
a sort of optical illusion—
you had another mask.
You can write about the recently dead a million different ways.
We do it fundamentally impersonally,
resurrecting the last working days of the victims,
attention to the mind-fields of the socially isolated.
Isolation and our physical health.
Outdated conceptualisms and the reframing of race relations,
a future in which everyone commands a voice and
a platform, and platitude and a pogrom. A poetry.
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