What is this? Not all things can be exactly explained. This poem wobbles on the edge of explanation. It bends the mind. It's called Snarling, a new kind of poetic word play that creates a "feeling tone, as deep meditators call it, not understanding in the conventional sense. It smashes words together like a Hadron Collider on a quantum level spinning the observer (the reader) in new, unexpected directions. Unsteady, like moving protons in uncertainty theory. It mixes feeling and meaning in a different way playing with opposites. Similar to onomatopoeia where meaning and sounds are mixed in a new order. The collider runs protons on on a five mile track and smashes them together to see what new particles explode out. What new thingss are made, found. It's not a haiku or one of its derivatives either. Its form does not dictate the ah ha moment and it is not predicate on subject matter. Yet, it is similar in its inception process. If anyone clearly understands a Snarling poem, it has failed. Conversely, if most think it's nonsense, then it has failed too. It's there and not there all at once. Like the Buddhist meme, the bird sits on your shoulder until you try to look at it and it's gone. You turn away and you know it's there again. The edge of understanding. The Snarling poem can be anything but it must be short and concise in form, not impeded necessarily by rhyme. It uses words and meaning in a new dimensional way. The Multiplex for poets. It almost makes sense. Oh yes, it's fun.