Stop Gawping at these Words

An experimental poem I once wrote, inspired by e. e. Cummings.

Stop, look and

 

 

                 listlessly scran the words of

the page. Dote scoff

          slow                               down

Calm thyself with thought-butter

 Arm thyself with fort-butter

Harm thyself with fore-bluster

 

       Slow                                      back

back                     down……

       someonesaydioudon’t            read

each letter of each word each time

    You scran the oultine

                      Create your own word

        Why not?

And when you don’t comprehend a certain

illation

 

 

       that’s where the brake

 

In your consent-ration will be. be.

    On guard for thin kings

you already know what’s about to

cone, up into the sky like a frisky

Comcorde - you’re scanning mechanism

    Slow                                    dawn

(when you try)

 

I’m wearing an inky glove and

pawing my heart out

don’t tote those presumptious shades

          like this was a passing highway,

man.

Author's Note

There are no spelling, grammar nor punctuation errors in this poem - do not be fooled. Anything else is fair game though.