On my phone, I am great at the typo and a poor editor. So when I write notes or ideas on my phone, some interesting text emerges when I come back to it hours or days later. This poem is attempting to have fun with some of those errors.
The morning is cool - a fresh-ass apple newly cut and the wind nips cactical star flowers - my goose-bumped skin Ravens in the playground, loose-footed and black leafed having problems. Magpie intervention - no introduction bro just the stab and flutter of discontent. Black Beard's swagger doesn't change "Cut less cutlass!" his piratical cry. Their tails brush as they agree to disagree back to back on the monkey bars. The school bell rings.