this is kewl its like a frucked up chat room or something.. its keepin me awake and im just waitin for a friend to get online.. oh well.. *sighs* here we go!

I love the first line, and the deceptive way the poem leads you to think it's going to be about more than an unwillingness to pay bills. It's something we can all understand and it's become heroic! Though I must admit I rifle through my post as soon as it comes in case someone's sent me an impromptu present. They never have.

Oh, by the way, your poetry fucking sucks. Just thought I'd let you know. I really tried to like it, I really did...

if you enjoy thinking of them as bizarre, i guess they are. so many condemn for thoughts they themselves frequently fight back. perhaps this is what incites the mania? everything 'safe' and 'normal' sounds like hell to me.

ah, the moment of clarity, arriving too late. as you said, at least it's getting wrapped up. as much as i like a nice drinkie with friends, things have been known to out themselves in the most uncomfortable of ways on those occasions. sigh. so, where're you from, originally?

soooooooo...i see you're still here? excellent! remember this daughter of sam...there are many things you're lying about...and i know this, and see through you..it's no wonder, just the same...i lie about alot of shit too..bit when it comes to writing late at night well that's what i do....soooo, you think you got what it takes to pound at the keys? i've got a fat bottle of merlot, i'm twenty eight, and on my hands and knees.. i'm gonna take you on a field trip and show you what i've seen.. prepare my late night undercover lover. prepare your mind for things big flash knuckle white, with coating dirty heffen-weis..let's role play...shall we???

quite a fuckin bit of pulse riding mouth pants..huh!...what? you think you've got a good hammer swing don'tcha....marvelous....lets take a look ...this one was short and fucking pretty pointless, and personal...what? shall we read your mind? splendid...here goes...fabulous metaphors...great description! so fuckin what...dime a dozen...make a point, or do what you just did..i'm not your fuckin whore piss whiny bros..in ypur bent la. film school canister hoe sooo. what's your point, and why should i exactly give two shits about your one sided narration of nothing but color, spark and piss on the new snow....pompous little twit! type on you already yawn me to nut pull....ha! but fuck it heres a seven for your cute power words. enjoy 7?10!s

Glad im helpin ya out poet.. n e wayz.. i told ya once.. if u would like click the recent button.. i submitted a couple of the poems in my diary.. i have to admit they suck ass but hey.. im a kid who gives a shit what i think.. and please stop with this preppy teenybopper shit.. im an ugly fat ass soo please dont act like im a fuckin prep.. thanks.. lookin forward to the next one.!..

Last Friday I was in Colorado for Romer's 50th wedding anniversary. I was there to interview family and a few supporters from his home state of CO. So I went with my friend Babbit (I'll keep the name anonymous) and we tied one on. Listening to my questions the other day, I sound like an idiot. Oh well, it is almost over. Two years worth of work on one story coming to an end. Then it is on to finish others. That is all I have. When the article comes out, I will drop a line. You can trash it!!!!

Lmao.. man poet and zzinnia.. this poem has like a lot of comments cuz like me and poet were fightin through em and u and him or her.. are like talkin through em.. oh thats gr8.. i wish i could go to sleep but i like have been like havin this insomniac thing goin on for me for like the past couple weeks.. any suggestions?

ok.. g'nite poet.. and gl with ur article.. an g'nite zzinnia.. i dont know either of u but.. im bored so i dont care.. lol.. im going to get off the computer and go lie in my bed staring at the ceiling because i cant sleep.. g'nite!

Roy Romer's progress as the superintendent for the LA school district. Seen from the level of politicians, teachers, kids, janitors, you name it.

mojo, h: i used to live out in the sticks, and the night was alive with eyes when i came home after working my 2nd (or sometimes 3rd) job. you never knew what was out there--swamp on one side of the driveway, woods on the other. vultures waiting in the trees, an arm's reach from my car door in the morning. the paranoid dash from the car to the door was pure adrenaline. i was younger--10 years ago i scribbled these ideas out; yesterday, i gave them flesh. i was alone--that bit about him leaving the light on? he had stopped coming home, and the only ones waiting up were the cats. call me la vieja loco con gatos...

I wish I could say somewhere other than Misery, but KC (born and raised til 17) is it. I have lived a ton of places, (Montreal being the favorite), but I am back here for the time being. At least I travel a good deal. You? Deal! Ah!! I am off to get my fax. Until tomorrow.

I dont care what other people think but i think ur poem was kewl, from the heart.. not many people care about that stuff.. so we gotta get out there and tell them how we dont care about their gay verses.. lol ':-)

i'm along for the ride on this one, cold and dark as it may be. well done.

Do u like being a journalist.. or does it suck.. i mean like u musta liked it cuz u chose to persue that profession but.. actually like how is it?.. do u get paid well? lol.. j/w

no wonder you need a little help, just waiting for your fact-checkin' cuz. is there a gem in the story that you care to share? an anecdote, a phrasing that amuses?

i'll only trash it if it's shaped like colorado. deal?

you sly beggar. slipping it in, once again, and freshness counts! jubilant use of 'shape', and motion.