I am the
Idiocyncraftist.
I am.
Slap-tagging together
words
stitching them into
sentences
that often ironically
anatomically
only make sense
to me
and je ne care pas
though I am informed that I should
follow fast rules
and be proper with Gramma and punked-you-ation
I live at
je ne care pas
station
I writes to pickle my own relish
the only thing I checks is me spell-ish
so the reader doesn't have to toss around
bread crumblies so they won't get lost
I be the black art witch
whose art comes from the dark recesses
of a distant black past
I pull it out from behind the cloak
for the big prestige
and then I yelp out loud:
proclaiming
" I've whelped another
another new born babe of a poem...
a rousing
yowling
howling
"hey-look-at-one-of-these!"
and I may be the only one
well-pleased
but that is
juste fantastistiquo-grandissimo
with me.
Copyright May 3 2015 All Rights Are Reserved By This Author
Meloo/Melissa A Howells straight from her Tilt-a-World
All ideas/rants/prose/poems are the legal property of this Writer
Made up words with this one are all my own idea July 1/2015
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