_Collectively written exquisite corpse poem, inspired/prompted by Bataille and Ferreira da Silva. WdKA P3 class of 2023-2024 “Wreading and riting — Things and stuff”._ ### I AM THE SUN A man who finds himself among others is irritated because he does not know why he is not one of the others is I my mum? Just like everybody else does the person who’s always been there for me, my mum Everything that seems smooth actually smothers And still, we are just looking for some fun The one who falls is indifferent to the one who hovers I am the son of my father and the father of my son Not understanding the cycle is what bothers So, eventually, it becomes easier to sip rum, While the leaves in Autumn first come on the ground Like an ant of the same species finding itself in front of another colony, they are not its brothers James Dean, Brando and 1 bullet from 1 gun. Down by the lake, at the lake, we drink the lake, and spit it on the lovers It has only just begun With his sweet loving of the mothers I would like to have fun. Anger arises and my throat suthers Surrounded by masters of none In the midst of chaos, one unexpectedly discovers We’re all confined to the eyes of one A mother who smothers, a brother who bothers, tethered by another, I would rather scatter And the person holding a gun Who is impossible to outrun How do you know which way to run? Pilgrims always follow the sun As it always has been done