Here's a couple poems. Both of these were written due to e-mails from Melanie Browne. The first one is based on something I said, and the second was cut-up using a work-in-progress and the cut up machine (http://languageisavirus.com/cutupmachine.html) and then edited using my brain.
"The thousand year reign"
Rode up on your Whitey,
Came scratching your nuts,
Saying, "You're a pain, father."
A business man,
Never lost a sales-pitch,
"Do you want the candy-canes
or the mistle-toe?"
"I don't care," Christ shrugged,
not too concerned with
The apathy he'd bought.
Closing the page halfway through
The Beast's 9-nippled Revelations.
see it to the railing
out the silent drawn building
the overmade after-hollow
she felt cautious for her uncontrollable glowing
yet completely over moon and creaky smiles
gentle, an empty room