Random word poem via typing random letters and then filling it in afterwards. Also, this is the poem title. It’s much longer than the poem. I could say this is some kind of experiment, or I am trying something new, but in reality the below poem lacks meaning other than it being random words that came from random letters. I typed it while surrounded by art students, an unusual place for me to sit when I normally write in my apartment, to try and see if placing myself somewhere new could allow me to see something new. Maybe even to absorb the energy in the room, like an experiment. That’s an experiment. This poem isn’t. And this is just me trying to explain why the below poem is so short and meaningless and this title is so long. It worked, though. I met three new faces as well. Three people I would not have crossed paths with. I don’t remember their names though, so maybe it doesn’t matter too much. I mean, if I wasn’t there, I don’t think their lives would have gone much differently, you know? Me being there probably didn’t change much. But I did meet three new faces. And that’s not to say that I don’t change things. I’m sure I do. And meeting anyone changes everything. We really see so little in our own bubble after all. I guess that goes back to what I was saying about wanting to put myself into a new set of surroundings in the form of different people. I can’t see very much on my own, and they can’t either, but I guess together we can see something. Except I don’t remember their names. But I did write this poem. I mean, the thing below this. This is just the title. There’s no meaning in the poem. It didn’t matter that it was there and met people either. But I’m sure that if this poem was a person, it’s field of view would feel expanded right now. I guess it’s how I’ve always thought about the world. I talk to people at bus stops. Not afraid to say it. It’s great. I see everything as a character, and every time I meet someone as a chance to learn more about life through them. If that’s not what socializing is about, than I don’t know what it is. Just an ego boost or something. I do hear people with high self-esteem are happier. But there’s more than that. Because sometimes you do change things, and those times make all the times you don’t worth the awkward moment of saying “Hello, my name is XXXX” and getting a grunt in response when you hoped the other person would introduce themselves back and maybe you could get to know each other, be friends, get help with homework or even just have them give you the time. Or maybe if you were attracted to them, you wanted to go on a date and became disappointed that nothing happened when you said hello. But you still met them, and while we forget things said in passing, you now know that some people won’t check their watch or phone for you and would rather grunt than give the time. That was still an impact, even if you didn’t change much. Because now there’s this story about you walking up to someone at the park bench and asking for the time by being all friendly and getting less than friendly back. And that’s okay. Your bubble got bigger, and so did theirs. But I’m getting ahead of myself when this is just a title and the poem is so insignificant and meaningless – A Projection on Paper poem by Zachary Storch
Gorgeous loop wizard cage jim cave us soul leap goal score deacon ID Rosa in an axle whoa sail rattle
Author’s Note: I am soooo performing this next time I have a chance to open mic.
