Final: Thanks for the memories folks. While not always showing the best of us, this was a great shared experience, i think.
I was blown away by the achievement of the last editable poem. I think the end product that was created was something truly special. While I think it would be foolish to attempt to recreate an experience like that, I am a fool and I loved watching it grow and shift in my feed. I would love to see one grow again.
Therefore, I messaged thenewgreen and asked if I could steal their idea wholesale. they agreed, and so I copy/paste now:
Noise, death, and work.
Action, death, and work.
Windows shrink like old workers.
Walk slowly like a misty worker.
Close your eyes. This life is tiresome,
and hurled against the wind, it burns.
The scalded flesh reveals your figure,
And you become un-wounded. Bones
exposed through burning facade.
I could work all day and never
move an inch closer to you.
I'm a weathervane pointing
beyond the storm, into the blue.
I polished windows until I didn't
like their bright new veneers.
False rooster, rubber rocket, listen
to Roethke: go away, somewhere
you think you need to go. Foothills
of hysteria. You'd expect the dead
man's curve: xerox zero Rosie,
but it's bowties and trumpet tubing
from here on out. Little ram-shackled
summer-homes baking together
like cookies, every one a family.
Under the words that were omitted
lie the noise, work, and death
Missing workers walk slowly,
stop to take each breath.
Under the words that were deleted
I sit here with the few
Trying not be defeated
I move an inch closer to you.
Cut me down a tree,
Dragged it to the sea.
Made me clearly see
How much you mean to me.
I've added all of the previous editors here. anyone else is more than welcome to join. I have no expectations for how this attempt will really go (though of course I would love it to succeed), so allow your creativity to flow free of expectations.