Poems of Charles HIce 

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 6POETRYPOEMS6

6POETRYPOEMS6
6POETRYPOEMS6
6POETRYPOEMS6
SILL
6POETRYPOEMS6
 When in the course of human events we four underscore and ten the limited that eye am is them the worthless they become eye can make this another rude poem the girls are still and ever chattering all day they break all the rules of a quiet place and take the place of god and assemble words all wrong they sill them like water from a fountain not judging right from wrong but eye will ignore them and find something new to write eye just need a new idea how about this a misspelling a glitch iff ewe will of small proportions starting on the dollar side of the hill and rolling down picking up debris upon the ground until it's a giant sized nemesis threatening the town it rolls it falls so far and then it stops it turns it sniffs the air behind it as iff its cold. Sill the word is sill perhaps the poet meant still perhaps he meant silly lettuce explore this possibility with love inside us. Spill is a verb like a word processed it has an action but no devices just an action to spill a mocking bird to spill the ocean into a jar to spill the coffee in the backseat of the car to spill the beans they adage and they spill the box of staples for the stapling gun they spill the paperclips not one by one but all of them at once so hard to find them all to pick them up not one by one but all of them at once. So now we try this They still them like water from a fountain eye suppose that this could work the water runs and then it pools and then it stops and then it stills. He leads me beside the sill waters. What works for one writer does not work for us all. Suppose the word was silly. Let us see. They silly them like water from a fountain have you never seen the people gather on a city street they stop and stare at the giant water fountain tiered then smile then laugh they say look at all the silly water, mon, non, eye can only remember when the beer truck wrecked in New Orleans and the beer ran in the ditch like water they said the people came from miles around to drink they looked like cattle at a pond. Now that was silly water. A poet reaches for ideas wherever he can find then that's what makes a poetrypoem when in the course of human events


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