One Result of the Surrealist game "Time Traveler's Potlatch"
Fritz's note for "Time Traveler's Potlatch"
The poem formed from the collaborative writing game "Opposites"
keep passing the open windowsclose the windows, close the doors
feel the breeze, welcome strangers
longing for cool air, they seek to forget new faces
I love it when the club gets hot, meeting new people.
Being very shy, I don't like to meet people. Clubs should always be on the cool side. Definitely.
Outgoing, I love every stranger. Crowds can never be hot. Maybe.
Our first poem as a group, the collaborative writing game "Exquisite Corpse"
birds silhouettes scattered from tree silhouettesHumor laughs out loud--loud!
The ball bounces against the resistance of wall
Through three archways
mixing poetry classes with 808 philosphies
into the windows and out of the windows
Tchaikovsky resonates in today
The exquisite corpse isn't!
hands on top of hands
poetry collaboration is like the Borg on Star Trek the Next Generation
This is a new year let's remember to embrace our loved ones with cheer.
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