when I 1st tried googling for interesting phrases, with the aim of poetry production, I got lousy results. I couldn't see how people were making the poems they were making by the method. as I continued efforting it, I got better. the results improved when I expanded my search parameters (I hope it'll be at least a month before I use the word parameters again, not counting that use of parameters nor that one...). I used to search just on, say, George Bush or Joan Houlihan, the 'subject'. adding another search term, like crab cake instigated a collision of what, perspective? possible absurdity. well, I guess this places that subject into a context, probably an unexpected one (note: anything unexpected in a poem is probably a good thing). and it's more interesting if that context kinda reeks in some way. you know what you'll get with Joan Houlihan and poem, or George Bush and Iraq. either they self-petard themselves or the public answers the usual yea or nay. the additional search term provides a bit of centripetal action. and the point arises that there's determinism going on. this isn't a random procedure, tho randomness influences. it can feel shaky to have an idea in mind, like you are forcing things. but in saying that, I also state that that idea can be wrenched into another direction just by what turns up. so there are some pinball bumpers in the mix. but you don't get the purity of John Cage's more fully random procedures. it's a method, with which you do what you can. or not, whatever. it's a much slower process for me than plain 'writin' the pome', what with collecting and then paring down. and it feels shaky because I'm not fully in command of the poem, if it even gets to the point of being one. bottom line is what's on the page, whatever one does. if your 1st worry point when you read is whether what you are reading looks like flarf, or language poetry, then you've flunked. sorry, we've got to be strict in these matters. I've already pointed to Rob Fitterman's lovely and elegiac This Window Makes Me Feel, a totally google-assisted affair. worries about flarf and language have gotten so internecine that if one could put on blinders and just stay focused on poem qua poem, a good service could be done. I guess even an asshole can write a good poem, anyway. down with gatekeepers! you probably don't even know who you are.