A life story, Mrpresident???? I think so...

Hmmmmmmm, chalk one up for el presidente.

Rubbish, total rubbish.

I don't know what the fuck this means, but it's ace.

This sure is swell.

Horus, I meant not offense. I think sometimes we just throw stuff "out there" without much thought. Maybe ist's a product of boredom or a need for attention...I know how good your work can be and just don't feel this piece is representative of your talents. And Horus, we all have our talents...no need for self-indulging proclaimations here...

Well ,I liked it. P&K, nice to see you at the top of your pathetic form, in the pissant groove and all. In the beer section, I dig a wheat beer microbrewed at the favourite bar of limonade and I. She likes the dark 'n' bitter herself.

You rim the undercarriage of geriatric goatherds whilst mangling your cock in a dead thrush's mouth.

You sell the use of your cervix to the lairds on their Scottish estates to house premature hatchlings.

The inversions really don't work for me ("who see not"; "they see not")--they just add an artificiality to an already overburdened poem. I do mostly like what I've read of yours, but it sometimes totters dangerously close to becoming a Neil Peart lyric. Nice images, but a little overwrought.

a bit of an 'it' poem describing something as it but alluding to rather than building up an image. The poem would be better with a few images to guide the reader. Like 'it is stealth and you are dull'

the moral of the story? I guess that you should not have given away the suit. If you have no use for a suit ther is precious little point in keeping it even if it does fit well. That electric chair is damn comfy. The poem I found flowed well but seemed a little odd.

not sure about the rhyme at the end of each verse, too many words seem to interfere in between, such as whom and you. overall pleasant,

Wonderful! Hey Email me so I can tell you what happened.

No compassion outside the group?

Frear of reality being less than expected or not so tasty?

Whoops my spelllng leaves. My fingers are afraid to hit the right keys.

Gilt and glitter and blood galore. A feast on bandages of dried crust of gore.

The empty womb does not ache for you. Avoidance of life does not releave the hunger.

By the way, "ignited light" is a great phrase!