These cinquains are written by different persons composing each of the five lines (except for the very last one). I directed people as to how many syllables the next line needed to be (2-4-6-8-2). All were able to read any preceding lines that had already been written for the cinquain. The first cinquain was composed as part of a Fluxus communion ritual that I presided over as priestess at The Cultural Arts Center for Chicago Fluxfest on 2/23/2013. The score was called “A Penny for Your Thoughts”:
ka ge da poo
du ne three four nine six
wine pizza hat fun Chicago
The following cinquains were composed collaboratively in a more relaxed, ongoing manner of passing the book around to whoever happened to be nearby. These were all written the following day at 6018 North gallery:
Jokie Wilson, Jonathan Leiter, Jonathan Stangroom, Keith Buchholz, Jennifer Weigel wrote:
I don’t know what to say.
It ate my dog. It spit it out.
The same people wrote the following, though Andrew Oleksiuk stood in for Jonathan Stangroom:
Under the oak
El Ka Ze Doo Fah Bum
I’m not going to help with that
The next was written by John Bennett, Svetlana Psetskaya& Виктория Барвенко, Viv de DaDa, Mary Campbell, and Tricia Van Eck:
From Russia with love
Da de Da Viv Mar C
are it feel can do some more too
I failed to record the author names for each of the following three cinquains, though I know Kelly Courtney, Bernd Reichert & Claudia, and I may have contributed in addition to previously mentioned authors:
O Ki do Ki
Les i-dylles ro-man-tiques
Les feuilles desparues de matête
Body food and waste – Poop!
My soup link falling off your hat
Sun(g) Song (translation of Svetlana’s Psetskaya’s Colo svet/(s)olo svet)
morning kiss da
You are totally blank
Spa geh tea and meat balls holy
The following cinquain was written by Jennifer Weigel, Kelly Courtney, Chuck Wilbur, Patrick Lichty, and Michelle Pressler:
Umm just one Umm
Da Da da da da DA!
Remember The Eyes I Sent You?
Finally, here is the last cinquain recorded in my book that day, written by just John M. Bennett and me:
Gland drizzling out
On a greasy bongo
floating far out on the drunk bay