For a period in May of 1996, Bean Newton developed a style that was far more straightforward and less outwardly fractured than his other works. The result revealed a deep-seated paranoia, and possibly the manifestations of a latent and undiagnosed psychosis that may help explain his later behavior.
The following poems are exemplary of this period. -- E.W. Wilder
(Canker Sore--untitled)
She had a voice like a canker sore.
We are rewarded by the ability to edit our own work.
We are discouraged from thinking because of what it might do to the
rafters.
We are discouraged from writing cement because of what it might do to
the postage.
We are discouraged from speaking out because people might agree with
us.
The light is no good today. I cannot work.
Pulling over hurts because of the administration's new position on free
trade.
Only small portions of the radio transmissions from the CIA satellite
now reach my house after having dealt the monitor a death blow. This
makes it hard to download the e-mail (from my adorning fans).
Digitalis is the next great healthfood craze.
Casualty & Claims
People will always need insurance claims adjusters.
This is partially because there will probably always be insurance, and
people will always need adjusting.
The claims business is the logical conclusion of the other two.
It's a simple matter of instantiation.
I bring this up in this hallowed meme, the University literature class,
this stinking cask of artistic and intellectual death, simply because
it's a good think to fall back on.
I wrote "think" there in the air, and it wasn't a mistake—
or rather, it was the sort of creative error you just get away with
when making insurance adjustments.