over the word count

*this poem is as incoherent and as disorganised as i was in the exams, is that honesty? (and extremely particularistic)

Excuse me?
the coefficient of restitution is
irrelevant
to everything but

how fingers refuse to return to original
form : disorganised Athenian point rendering glassy pages
unthematic & unchronological (N.S.W.),
Jesus

Y O U R  R E A D I N G  T I M E  S T A R T S  N O W .
help aid me

Y O U  M A Y  B E G I N  W R I T I N G .
shade these twelve formats into OAS
and fill in the blanks.
while too preoccupied with this preoccupation,
“my right hand blooms like cancer”
detected callous after tumour after phantom finger,
remembering mammograms sewn on the inside of their sweater sleeves
– stolen.

S T U D E N T S !
to your left is merely
tomyam fried rice and curry soup, himalayan pink salt bread,
rooftop atop library,
a signboard grinning fluff is pragmatism?
and to your right we see flowers and infertile soil
in direct conflict – centred on
inclined plane, deduce maximum static friction
on nCr(4,2) wheels that screech to a
H A L T .

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

timed papers exist
to measure the velocity at which we fail to vacuum formula
from the vacuity of our vacuum.
we retrieve definition to pseudoweave into culture convolution
a web of significance from which we extract meaning
attempt sophistication, self-fulfilling hegemonic force of pol. org.,
“linguistic competence as a signifier of intelligence”
proceeds the regurgitation of Bourdieu.

in these five pages we illegibly print
the give and take of
love and competence, capital now melting into dripping kueh lapis due to
increase in thermal energy,
(the non-mechanical transfer of energy between two bodies)
all my words indecipherable,
all my final answers expressed
with a denominator of 0.

C H I L D R E N !
must rationalise. escape escapism,
justify all uncertainties,
attempt to deconstruct the italicism of dialogue,
Turner-resolve social conflict.
yet, i Fadiman-fail.
point now atmosphere-enveloped,
strings hang off a cliff(y), i conclude with the definitive knowing of unknowing,
cursing the depletion of seconds
seconds : checked off by the

degrading

of the

      h     a    n                                                                              d

P U T  Y O U R  P E N S  D O W N .
the Creator is coming around,
absorbing what we have been made to make.
and when our tidings are duly received,
you look up –
for the sixth time, D9 to C7:
is causation real?

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