One ear at a time.

Your critique is flawed in every point, as I will demonstrate: i) Tool have only the one song, so far as I know 1) If you put hemlock in vinegar, it is very bitter indeed. Hemlock is what they used to kill Socrates (possibly mixed with opium) 2) that was an interesting experience, but had no effect one way or the other on my reading of the poem 3) on the other hand, torpid still finds occasional use & can even be considered, though marginally, acceptable. Is this not unfair? 4) you stole point 4 from eratosphere, where I believe they have it set up as an auto-responder to all posts originating from ip's that have at any time in the past been associated with pomeranker 5) and tigers, hence Hobbes, hence by association Calvin, representative of little boys, and what is the yearning to express oneself in amateur poetics other than the little boy (or girl) in all of us giving voice to his little boyness? (or little girlness, as the case may be) 6) jimi 7) the strength of the magnetic force field of the earth has declined by MORE THAN 10% in the past 20 years (requires schizophrenia)

Thank you, honourable Feline. I approached the crafting of this pome as I approach every task in life, however mundane: with a) careful precision; b) rigorous determination; and c) a keen yearning to excel, to make an orderly difference in this chaotic world. That I have succeeded in some small part in this instance certainly brings me a modicum of pleasure. No, that is unfair. I ought rather to say it brings me BOUNTIFUL pleasure, a pleasure that beats in my breast like the joyful drumming of the wings of a partridge, startled into joyous flight from its secluded clearing (where it sedately fed on the winter berries) by the advent of the forest caretaker. I will close now, lest I display emotion inappropriate for this forum.

I trust you're not mocking me. This is a deeply personal poem, and it was with great trepidation that I ventured to post it here. I can only trust that the readers will approach it with the sensitivity I feel it rightly deserves. No, that should be demand. With the sensitivity that I DEMAND it rightly deserves.

I can't argue there. You have won this battle.. for now.

1: your right, its sour. But honestly, bitter, sour, don't they both convey to anyone without brainwave activity that "IT TASTES BAD??" 2: *fart* 3: *fart* 4: Well, it doesn't interest you ofcourse, and incoherence is always the case when I haven't bothered to spell things out for you in detail (I figure some readers can use some of their imagination and impart their own meaning... etc etc but we've had this conversation before, so anyway..) 5: Cmon now, you might be using the title "everyone", but don't start thinking that you actually know what people do to celebrate victory.. and the hobos I know? burb sour beer and pass out rather than growl. 6: the connection between blue-collar blues and growling.. isn't a concept thats too hard to grasp. (denial? etc etc, really DO I HAVE TO EXPLAIN? No. And I won't.) 7: Your welcome, whatever helps that frustration of yours. And HOLY JESU!?! YOU LOVE IT!!! Thanks for the ten. Toodles.

Thanks for that. :)

Sssnnnwhuffffll? Hnwhuffl hhnnwfl hnfl hfl? Gdroblboblhobngbl gbl gl g g g g glbgl. Drublhaflablhaflubhafgabhaflhafl fl fl - gm grawwwww grf grawf awfgm graw gm. Hovoplodok - doplodovok - plovodokot - doplodokosh? Splgraw fok fok splgrafhatchgabrlgabrl fok splfok! Zgra kra gka fok! Grof grawff gahf? Gombl mbl bl - blm plm, blm plm, blm plm, blp The Loch Ness Monster's Song, by Edwin Morgan. My point was, that poetry is wordplay, it's original use of traditional terms. It's giving words meaning.

lol, a classic. That should be the title of your first poetry book. I'll fucking publish it, she-it.

"OK"? Kenny G's music is the sound of beauty flowing through a satin-lined pipette into a bottle of dream-scented lotion.

Oh yeah? check out Victory smokes & black tiger ambrosia.. I just posted it fresh from my dream lab. (Been crafting it most of the day.)