I like the spareness of this. A pure moment.

she's givin more than the look. i love this. except for the 69 reference. that's not handles as well as the rest of it. show me you know how to handle it, ua

why? why why why? this sucks.

brothers and lovers, eh? where have i heard that before? is this new, mrs.g? i think you cauls make it clear from the outset that the scientist/prophet is not the devil. also, before he tears her apart, shouldn't he measure her, or see into her? i would like it better if you moved some stanzas around. open her doors and let him see after 'the experiments begin.' may i suggest that you describe the devil as the tempted tempter?

i like all the images and the way you address the situation. but if it's a fast punk song, giving it a hammering meter. then it would strike down opposition.

This is full of really great imagery - your visual imagination is full of marvels - but the poem as a whole doesn't hang together for me. Perhaps you should try tighter structures? This is almost too allusive, to the point of incoherence. But your eyes and ears are finely tuned...

The tensions behind this are so powerful. For those who cannot speak, the written word is such an erotic tool. This balances up fear and anticipation, secrecy and disclosure. Woof. Did you get the link for Scriberazone?

happy birthday, rex

Captivating. The hunter's impotence is so beautifully drawn and held back for the end. 'Shellac of frost' - very good.

Will he be biting into her? An unexpectedly visceral undertone, which I like. I also like the details about the bookworms and the honour students.

There's a hint of Yoda in the final 5 or 6 lines - are you a Jedi?

'brothers and lovers'? You have been paying close heed to Mrs G's work, I think. I wonder if the second stanza needs some more clarification? I'm not quite sure of how the inter-relationships work.

You've forced me to revisit a horrible childhood nightmare - little orange singing men. Yikes.

Something tells me that these are not the hardest bunch ever - where are you from, Chalfont St Giles?. A Morris Minor? Recasting Margaret Thatcher as an ace rapper is cool.

This isn't my favourite of yours, it seems a little sketchy. Still, this behaviour is just typical of men, those good for nothings.

I don't think you should lean back on the phrase 'indescribable emotion' - it's the poet's job to describe it, otherwise how can the reader feel it?

Well it sounds like student life to me. Though even now, 7 years after I got my first degree, I'm still paying for it and still having worried trips to the bank. Thing is, it was squalid and penurious, but it really was the best time of my life. So maybe a bit more joy here would be nice. Even so, a fond but realistic view.

You read Simon Armitage? I think he knows the same places as your and Mr Jones. It's a harsh environment, but somehow loveable for the precise lack of bloody lattes. I'm a Southerner, what do I know? But you can see this same scene in Kilburn every week. Evocative and with a real point to make.

the first 7 lines are clumsier than the balance. it is a sparkling instant, and desrves to be captured so. please consider re-working. i would love to see this shine.

eh.