why?

Danny devito? Why not ..say..magnum p.i. we have three months listed, fuck it ! throw the other nine in for good measure..and really be a rebel. your hurting the feelings of sagittariuses everywhere. selfish recluse. Brown recluse. bastard! lover...

no no he's swimming free through cistercian pond.

touche.

it's like blind date meets jackass. jackass. it's funnier then two horse flys fucking on a mercedes hood ornament doing 90 on the freeway(oh i forgot, you're from the lands of fairy mounds, a freeway is a paved multi lane express way that cars use to get from point a to b quicker unless you're in new york or l.a then it becomes a parking lot full of every asshole the imagination can contrive, looking around, at everyone else looking around) may i also tread urine in your bladders puddle. the ocean was a bit cold today, i could use a good golden shower soaking. thanx.

yes then cicterian it is

I think you have a decent poem here, but you need to look more closely at the tone. What are you trying to say and how do you want to say it? The doldrums speak for themselves and set the pace and the point of the poem, but every once in a while I feel like you step outside and whisper an aside for comic effect. For example, the first seven lines yank the reader in. Then the fan line stops the pace, plus it is a bit cheeky. Maybe just say something like turn the fan on. Keep the dominos falling. Look at each line and how it connects to the next. If it is within the context, you will make it to the end with a good poem.

i'll be happier when the capon's home to roost. put your masterpiece back up, if you like. i laughed my ass off when i saw the title o' this one.

so that's what that tickling sensation was...

don't you mean cisternian?

thank you for you amusing stories of donkeys and what was that? paved path ways? Its like someone tickled my little marshmellow and i suddenly saw the light, it blinded, it was brilliant, now i dread to open my eyes for its mightyness fills the screen. Oh no its just the pro. strumming his strings again.

ye i think so

what kind of robes do they wear

well if the cistercians are cisternian, i suspect they'd wear brown ones.... or maybe a brownish yellow, due to all the vegetables last night?

yeah z... i feel a bit better..lot's of driving though, but the over abundance of introspective bikini patters did seem to eventually balance out the grueling race there.. if you call getting washing machined by 6-10 foot shorebreakers at the wedge (famous ca beach south of balboa that has a jetti which pushes the swells to double their size, aka el playa that breaks necks, and sandblasts your arse crack) purged. as far as the bottle goes...ah..tonight it's a crisp chianti with a bit of broiled sea bass on top of rice pilaff. i might jerk off to buffalo 66 for an encore...or maybe glue more junk drawer items to my breakfast nook table(due to frequent mushroom ingestions this summer my day room table and benches have become some of my more artistically inclined friends, and i's pet project. it's all for the love of mother, but where could she be? island hopping with the columbian drug cartel and designing panties i bet, yes, i'd wager p&k's one fingered farm on that. she is a malignant breeder that one, the more she kicks me, the more i bow to her swollen femininity

babbit, this one is weaker than your others. i don't think you've worked out the transitions in it yet; it does flow, but the ideas seem flotsam and jetsam in the strem here. perhaps breaks between leaf/daughter, shapes/platte, and old days/drink? i don't know; it just seems unfinished when held up to your others.

i thought we had shorned our cowlicks, and moved on, but i see you are bristling with pit viper spit this evening..and after i voted on your skid marks and everything..you sir, are incorrigable, and reeking of stout and spuds..i would love to strum a bit more for you, but my electric mandolin has been pawned to cover my porn and drug expenses. aspirin, and red haired harlots are grwing more and more expensive as the moon wanes..we can only pray for a good waxing soon..care to spoon for my last canadian loon?

I am not sure what you are getting at with the ** around the title. In addition, the images you create are a bit confusing. If it is misting, how can we see the moon? The sky is dark-- you established that with the title. Has the night came, as in spent its wad? Or, is this just a misuse of language. These are just a few errors that really hurt the poem.

and the crustaceans are going wilde

I had to delete a masterpiece of the juvenile to put this up. I hope your happy.