They will say that Shardik, Zodiac and Robbins were well- schooled assholes hiding behind the electron stream known as the internet. Of course, it's easy to be brave when you hide behind pseudonyms and long distances. Give me the readings in Hollywood and Redondo, Venice, Santa Monica where Trannies, Dykes, Blacks, Whites (And the occasional straight poet) will get booed off stage because they suck. There is honesty. Honesty is transitory. By the next poet everyone will have forgotten the last poet's words. Reading in real time not hiding behind clever bullshit retorts. Any man out there care to meet me and have it out with an open reading or with fists and knives (no guns, it makes for short discussion)? Of course not! Coward's on the internet use a Roget’s to fight for them. I'm glad that Zodiac is hiding in the Middle East. Maybe he'll eventually marry a towel head and direct his bullshit into a marriage where it belongs. Losers outsource themselves because the can't make it in the States. Those who can't, teach or go to the middle east. Thanks for the chance to say hi to everyone on your poem, Dovina.

Sorry to have poured hope into your day. It’s the danger of writing though, the difficulty of completely removing every trace on the day before we die, overlooking something, or getting the timing wrong. God, what will they really say!?

It’s a pipe dream, kinda like heaven. But who knows, maybe they’ll find the good stuff and not the crap. I’d have used a nicer word, but Horus says I’m bland. He can be so sweet sometimes.

U R SO Gay.

Thank you, I think. Or is that too bland a way of saying I appreciate and almost like what you are saying?

A meta-ku is a haiku about a haiku. Therefore the meta part must reflect nature too. Therefore this is not even a meta-ku. In conclusion it is impossible to write a nature poem about a poem. Even this is incorrect: please understand a haiku's about nature, nature you retards.

If you were a more articulate commentator, rollsoftoiletpaper may have better understood that you thought this poem was worth a -0-.

What an extraordinarily gay comment. And wrong. And you also fall prey to saying someone's logic falls prey to something, which makes you a first-rate practitioner of Parmesean Bummingtonism in my book. Conclusions: There is no "you", just a funny-shaped knee-hat in Harris tweed.