I've now entered my fifth month of continuous posting, a word a day, not always, strictly speaking, pwoermds, mixed as they with found typos & Google word verification captchas & puns & mini concrete poems & a bit of simple vispo. Sometimes they come in a stream, postdated posts spread across a number of days; sometimes the stream dries up. A fast or a feminine, as it were. &, sure, there's crap, & carp, & a bit of frank Capra, & a banner headline marqueeing through my brain—QUIT NOW WHILE YOU'VE STILL AHEAD—which, I suppose, means there's also a whole heap of masoschism in there.
But mainly it's fun, so I'll kpee on kpeeing on though, probably, when next year's NaPwoWriMo (® Geof Huth) comes around, I'll have exhausted my repartee, & there'll be nothing left to post, & I'll just have to hop on my
& sali off into the buel.