Junk poetry is an easy way for me to express myself using other people’s words. It’s cheap, quick and possibly damaging, just like the pills for your junk that people are peddling me. I was actually a little worried for a while. I had set up my email account so well that I stopped receiving spam, which deprived me of free material for a while. I never thought I’d be happy about getting crap in my junk folder again. So, while I’m job hunting, writing, and trying my hand at freelancing, you can still enjoy the best robotic compositions this side of a false claims lawsuit.
Disclaimer: Junk may be closer than it appears
“Stay, calm down,” his words that
Paige sighed and Izzy spoke as Terry.
Move, and since he stopped,
Bless us. Out here, we need help.
Karen and Brian had stopped.
Abby gave, you thank her good.
Family for him again with everyone else.
Still there, would take this.
Go out, another room, couch.
Of what we should probably be, great.
“Easy to turn,” it said.
Everyone else and set aside the next.
Please tell me about, it meant.
Have someone to their wedding.
Sometimes, the box on what
Call later, Terry waited until we could.
Lizzie, and feeling so pretty sure, they’re
Okay. Terry watching him, “so sorry Maddie.”
Lizzie came up there, but no matter.
Aunt too, small voice sounded like
Anyone else, and just enough room.
Words that John held in his mouth.
Me, the ring was doing something.
What he already be grateful for when John,
Instead of what? Maddie, come.
Since she almost bumped into it, over
Well, and braced himself in life.
What they were talking about, them?
Does that mean the hall?
Absolutely! No idea, if everyone
Maybe she looked so much.
Terry breathed deep breath and Carol asked.
Everyone moved closer, and when.
People remember her head.
Karen started out Maddie,
Song of your life, and forget that.
Keep her seat. Next breath.
Them, but still, there on what?
Does it coat as well?
Carol was ready to meet his head.
Your eyes shut, oh! and pulled away.
Ruthie came up, with each word
Door behind the bathroom, and again.
Girls stayed where we get through.
Abby was time you need
Close, and feeling the bedroom door.
Maddie kept the phone to look.
“Guess you feel it,” said Madison.
Ruthie came from behind him, feel better.
Man had him one was feeling,
Even though she climbed onto Terry.
Izzy in, front door shut.
Not even before Debbie said,
“Always been trying hard to stay with
Karen,” and everyone else, to read.
Like one arm to come.
Please tell, Terry started up the rain.
Had Madison pushed into it? Did Izzy?
Your aunt, too much time.
Lot on that spoke with everyone else.
“Please,” Terry pulled away to leave,
“Have much better than this,
Whatever you live, in fact, Maddie.”
Sounds like everyone moved closer to call.
Lizzie came close to her, but no idea.
The Blue Ridge Project: A Novel
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