Hey, I hope you had a happy St. Patty's day. I did (see: uncertainty in previous post [see also: Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle, because that shit's just wicked cool]).
The hellish finals week has got me all fucked up with sleep, and I'm back to indulging in my nocturnal proclivity. I hope to amend this soon, but without further ado, Amen.
gentleMen, Ladies, indefinitely Confused, I give you my 'POETre reADING reVIEW' (an assigned attendance and write-up of a local reading in which poetry was read [that really turned out to be a "scathing... review" of the worn-through postmodernist literary conventions {intentionally plural, intended as a pun}]) and my 'Æsthetic Statement?' (an assignmeant to reflect and elaborate up/on the "questions, processes, and impulses that underlie the principles or directions of your writing". [which because by the time I began to write it, I'd already written ≈ 9-10 pages of text for about 8-10 hours, it did not as I would wish very consciously, cautiously do this, but together with the accompanying document, may have very well done a satisfactory job of]), both of which were assignments for my now over Poetry class.
Enjoy; fill in the blanks; fulfill your life and yourself

{the following is my first submission to a poetry journal. this happened like 20 minutes ago. it's for NW Poetry's 'Science' themed issue. we'll see what happens. Love you. I'm going to fucking sleep.}

Hello, You (editors)!

I'm Walker Jones, and unfortunately I am a little late. For this, I apologize.* However, I'm submitting my poems to you directly--for a number of reasons.
One of which (pardon me, I posit rather obstinately) is that the causal circumstances of this casual submission are "silly, such arbitrary lines | that cut" some submitters from some submissed.

And these poems would be missed if they were missing from your issue, which I feel would be a loss of what would be a win-win for your magazine and me. "Why?" Well, I'm glad you asked that, because
these poems explore questions like
     ---'Why?' ("To what point does my lifeline continue? Does this plane of existence have value?")
     ---'Who?' (" i am "; "n0 name")
     ---'What ([is] "the best thing since sliced bread")?' {"a sandwich...", duh.}
     ---'Where?' and 'When?' (directly: "here/where | then/when")
--and 'How' they do this is of most significance to your forthcoming poetry issue:
in science-literate language.

I am no scientist (I don't even know if I passed my chemistry course), no mathematician nor philosopher, no writer nor poet--yet, "all | i am | is nothing 8u+" a person (albeit a young [19 year old] one). And as a person with an awareness, (that) I think in thought that I think is the "ought" to what is (and "it" isn't it), the experience taken out of and from the experience we are intrinsically a part of--i .e. abstractions, symbols, language. The only reasons I'm including such a prossibly {sic} confusing sentence are to

1. show that using analogous terms (/analogues), non-letter symbols, and fractured (or unconventional) arrangements is really just using the same iterative abstractions (from latin "strahere": 'to pull, draw' and "ab-": 'away, from') that are the foundation of plain written English, poetry, science, thought, and consciousness.
2. logically connect this connection: that

art is a subjective experience of science. [I'm afraid I'm getting too abstract, so I'll spare you this justification; though, if you'd like me to I'll gladly share--but for now, just trust me on that.] Art is a subconscious bridge between consciousness and existence. It pulls us back to an Experience, drawing us away from the very abstractions it--and we--employ(s) just 'to be', to exist; and what's more, once again,
connects the factored experiencer to the fluid experience. This is why I write poetry (the way that/about what I do).

I don't mean to be so abstract and impersonal, but I guess that's what it took for me to really spell out the personal significance of these words, pieces of me, of mine that I've pieced together and am sending to you--and why committing them to you, in particular to this (pardon the pun) issue, is so much (not in, but) our mutual interest.
At the least, I hope you find some interesting connections in these pieces.
Thank you for your time, considerable attention span and attentive consideration.

Looking forwords to you's n' him's works,
Walker Jones

*[But, it is not by much. I was on the submission page, and then took the time (which, as you will see, it does take time) to put my poems all into one document, and by the time I'd clicked the button to submit the document, there was a "processing error" that redirected me back to a submissions page that was no longer accepting submissions. Frustrating, as you can imagine. Instead of getting frustrated,]

P.S. I started began this submission at around 11pm, but after abridging the texts into one document, writing this whole darn thing, and in the middle stopping to journal some digressive thoughts that occurred (to make some pretty relevant, comprehensive connections), it's now nearly 4am. Why I include this is because I really did start to submit this when you were still accepting submissions, and that slight (tardiness, its consequence, and the incredulity and stubbornness [I'm a Taurus]) is really the whole why I busted this out right now (and submitting it against the "rules" or whatever they would be referred to in this case) whilst I am already unbelievably sleep deprived. I'm just gonna stop now. Thank you. Goodnight.

After sitting through educational videos which at least had comical backdrops and scene transitions, I could not focus on reading the "Hazard Communication" (?) packet nor discerning the truth-/false-hood of the statements in the back of said packet. I succumbed to distraction and haiku:

Sitting pretty close
By way of New York she is
A sniffling mutt

Named Katryerina
Aponte of interest
We're both new here, here

Fred Meyer, Kirkland
We filled cars and drove our homes
To make our new ones

For allergy meds
Safeway generic brand and
Nettles are helpful

I've ADHD,
One hour's sleep, you there and
No concentration

You might consider
Hazard Communication
As this, not the book

True and false review
Is truly false if I'd viewed
Truths falsely and blanked

I can't remember
What I was was I saying
I can't remember

Some rise as night falls
While the rest rest they while night
Falling at sun rise

Time never passes
It goes nowhere to the same
Place in present time