The Stars
One night I spoke
to the stars.
“Write a poem,”
they said.
“What kind of
poem?” I asked.
“Doesn’t matter.
Just make it short.”
•
My Life
I could
have
made a
fortune
in real
estate,
but
instead
I wrote
1,230
mediocre
poems.
•
! Manifesto !
+ Ultimately,*
*my poems are +
+ visual art.*
*Can’t you tell? +
•
The Sad Truth
Three-year-old
kids understand
my poetry.
•
How I Publish
I collect
my poems
into tomes.