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term mites
turn nights
tar mart
tell miles

centimeter of ash
rash potash crash crucible
irreconcilable liable
feeding the wretched of dust
oculars pleas ply flowers
and see me into flame nemesis
eat me the dust someday
terminal cloud nine Nile
booty heel
tribunal left guardian
custodian for customary
cause to marry
new ones, old ones
half if Rephan seen
never mind
seam two door

rite one

somewhat in the melancholy
Chaldean hob
knob rub impassive

trap that hanging
weavers weevil
necrosis stomata

led lightening pole
prickle uttermost
pole girandole

i mean , not one seed
how long lasts the quarrel
to steal this one quantum mutt?

piston stone ton
bleak side-way
shriek squeak

spydra here availeth naf

rite two

forged for bricklace
kayak feet
sea's fleet

shirts made with the night cloud
ablaze light pen
shone shimmering shown

days wood shrug
rug adults
damp drank

rank- colonels of stories said
smaller to bigger heads
hostage host age

park pool
foundational waters
nothing said, not him said

prayers are called late

Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Last few words: 
this poem is purely a dirge about death but impersonal due to imagery
Editing stage: 


there is autocorrect on the phones these days..smartphones
cell phones....a friend of mine was venting and was not swearing
so they were just hitting keys...but the fun i have too in hitting keys
is that the words that pop up in the suggestion window to touch
are words....words that i might not use or associate naturaly..
non machine and old hard copy dictionary.....but now you can just
punch buttons fast and hit send...i had a long long list of words
and letters put together diced in with other a code
for me it was mental playing but in reality it is a the old
numbers works...letters game...directives in it.

so now im reading works backwards to feel them out that way
but even if its machine correct etc....
the random patterns are somewhat interesting to watch
and see even with this...

the human mind can stil catch patterns on a speed that machines
cant.....termites are mounds....they are a complex society like mans
i havent studied them to know their insect rituals about death or end
of purpose in that order..

all the way the work is presented suggests intellect
this poetry.....and the random is an event
the pondering hint in your comment on one work
makes me see that you view your poetry as art
and art is personal

so intimacy can be discussed now because
its the intimacy that conveys communication
like ads in that fifteen seconds it takes to
view an ad..hear an exposed to an ad..

maybe im an old poem hustler..ha ha ha
never thought of that...

see already your poem has gotten me underway
into expanding concept and perspectives
(already im doing this forever..but in a more
focus awareness now towards works here
and poetry past and present that i have been
exposed too...)

basic conceptual theories...
cognizance etc..

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