GridcosmLevel 57 of 4696
Created on May 11, 1997.
Grid poemShe flexed her pink, prehensile toes while smoking a mackarello I couldn't help feeling that he watched me. ...That he watched us. That's what really hurt. His glare coming from, rooted by a amalgam of gambling debts and fish stories, snapping awake in gulps of time and swallowing the fresh salty sea breeze while knocking. Could he can them and have them sold by 11:03 PST? He could only analeyes the data and pray with arms outstretched like a mail-order mummy.
Getting aroundTo navigate, click the outer edges of the grid to zoom-out (up one level). Click the center of the grid to zoom-in (down one level). Would you prefer to jump to a random level? You might also enjoy the animated viewer, with which you can watch Gridcosm levels fly by. Disoriented? Read more about the Gridcosm collaborative art project.
AdministriviaThis is Gridcosm engine version 2.931.
Completed level images are licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 2.5 Generic License. (This does not apply to individual pieces by single artists.)