Compost long-form poetry!
Compost long-form poetry!
It doesn’t need to be about hair!
It’s compost long-form poetry.

Have you thought of 
long-form poetry
composting words 
and ideas, you see?

Compost long-form poetry.
It gets inside your head.
Compost long-form poetry.
It does not leave you dead.

I thought of making a poem.
A really, super, long-form poem.
I’ve thought of making a poem,
but I have not started it.

But I have composted 
ideas about poems!
I have composted 
ideas for where to begin!

I think I might sing a song.
It’s kind of like poetry.
I think I might sing a story.
It’s kind of for you and me.

And compost long-form poetry!
It rolls off the tongue!
Compost long-form poetry!
It’s truly the best for everyone!

Would you like me to add
a song and a story to this?
I sang this once before,
but let me add more narrative.

When the poem here,
I started singing,
I started long ago,
but I kept on singing.

As I sang through the day and night,
my children shivering with fright,
they did not know what to do,
and they got hungry, too.

I thought of long-form composting,
and long stool, too.
I’ve thought of logs turned to mulch,
and I thought of poo.

And I remained there
until I was through.
My children crying, 
and weeping. Very true.

They did not want me to continue.
They were, oh, so very hungry.
They wanted me to stop,
But I was never through.

Compost long-form poetry.
It’s not like a fungus
that grows on trees.
But it takes some time.

Takes some time,
Like the mold as it, it grows.
The things that we see as fungus
Are just the fruiting, fruiting woes.

Compost long-form poetry.
It grows deep inside of you and me.
What you must do is what I did
and open, yes, yourself up!

Extract it! Extract it!
Before the fruiting body breaks you up!
It, like you, will be composted,
just like the fungus.

It, like you, will be composted,
And that’s not fun for anyone.
Compost long-form poetry.
It’s not just for old fogies.