Helena and I, mincing our words

Helena and I sat in the life room for a few hours last week and wrote poems together. We wrote streams of consciousness, tore them up, and mixed the pieces together in a pile. Then we picked words out of the pile at random, and built new poems from them. After that we played a poem building game with Ella, writing a small phrase, folding the page and passing it on. It was a good experiment in the process of devolving away from meaning driven use of words. 

Swinging each other,

Galloping, galloping ,only one opening.

Closeness to someone or something

having nothing but everything

unattached

connected

demonic

can she hear me

process come

my legs pushing back to her hand

like something pressed

filled

dissolving

bird like

bent, melted

fold

gutless and mystifying

Bless life between 

forboding onto comfort

whistles, wings out

much

and up the

where the sound feels louder

come

packets melted of my trust

skin on coldness crowds

cacophony that am light 

and peas a cold

round that

through but open with danger

oceanic and reproductive assumption

fortune bearing processions build

like minding fractions with or

brushing hands across immediately

proximity fifth breadth

smell like in documentary

for and brow back entry deep

speaks, embodies, she is over

from associate with and gusts

our baby from hopeful under turns

this can feel back elastic

life container bread germinate

ignition lighting dimmed feel

did I notice if filled hunger

breadth pulling warm me limiting

stopped fill you your hands other and 

unknown only one of a this nose

the door land five-floor

in a fractal ache someone pulling

shattered terrain

monogamy

angelic, slowly pushing the swinging

we would throw words in unspoken words

screaming with no sound

the tiny bells seem insignificant

obeying without

feeling grains into a pan 

sour to the of which 

two three opening

the air break birds

filtered wish strings in the

in the weighted

at the same time with like

back step

light should and one will sing up expressing this

journey if to the island teeth of envy

in a place

like to light scalp slice express

weighted knees

unbalancing the toe

shrew waiting in a crowd

human

professional brown 

spill petals from body doors

commotion

be gentle

generously

through to only one 

teeming guttering fullness

fruit terrible that the

pressure on plan became ours