INTRANSIT
on Four Chapters from the Detective Plum files by horus8
2 Jun 2003, 6:41 AM
Your armpit puncture wound has problems. namely gravity. "practically borderline nauseating" redundant?
sounds like a semi-serious writ. do it again and do it write. needs a tad more humor if thats what you're trying to do.my <.02. that is all.
I've witnessed a few births, and I don't ever remember anything bubbling up. My point is that the poemmmakes it sound like a tremendous fart happened, similar to a big bubble rising in hot mud. BLOOP!
Here's my thinking about your response. You owe reality nothing. just becasue it is the best way to state your perspective of exactly what happened doesn't make it good poetry. I was giving you a reader's response to your poem--and I beleive that if you need to have something "bubble up" there must be a better way of stating it.
Great poeme! You eloquently express the mind-numbing boredom of a David "the new Houdini" Blaine show. How ironic that while he's absorbed in his self-important stunts, his audience also just wants to escape: to any place that doesn't include David Blaine.
Is this a poeme about doggy position sex? God'swife would love this.
"I would of given you sixes and sevens." would have. It's.
This is some kind of bizarre conglomeration of what you've inferred from the extracts of the Grandfather story and Ironside.
You claim it's an endless pattern that she goes from guy to guy. But so far she's only been with a finite number of guys. There are infinitely many incompatible infinite patterns compatible with that finite past.
For example, you think her history of sleeping with worthless guys again and again indicates a pattern called 'bedhopping'. However, it equally well indicates a pattern called 'quedhopping', defined as: sleeping with worthless guys up to and including 2nd June 2003, and physically transmuting into a sentient lichen thereafter. Hence, nothing about her past history determines that she's bedhopping rather than quedhopping.
I think you have more important things to worry about concerning your friend. You'd better go and check she's not already started the transmutation.
You know what? You are funny.
I was of the opinion that a counterfactual could be applied to any fact able to be contrasted against its origin of opinion, which ironically would make this comment a counterfactual. Now, on to more relevant criteria. You think I should continue with Plum in the coat-room, or post, and or pre-grandfather's feast of 'the obese attendant'.
I must confess I hadn't realised 'marinescience and field and stream' had anything to do with counterfactuals. Let's dig up David Lewis and cram a fish down his rotting throat and see what he has to say about it!
You're right!
you are ripping poetry apart, d/a. Watch your step.
i love this one also, and i'm not lieing. I klnow how you feel. Keep at it. And to hell with the idiots.
I subscribe to marinescience and field and stream, making me a neoplanktonist in a blinder.
Many of your poemes seem to be based on a rather curious assumption: that you have some property P that is neither an occurrent property nor a disposition; nor is it supervenient on any delineable set of your other properties. It is unclear what such a property could be.
It's a common enough mistake to make, Felzpoet. You have misinterpreted your desperate longing as some kind of indescribable compatibility or even destiny. The sooner you work out that there is no such thing as being meant for someone, and the sooner you work out that there is nothing inherent about you that makes you compatible with people you desperately long for, the sooner a) you will feel better b) you will concentrate on an activity more worthwhile c) the members of poemeranker will stop having to read your terrible poetry. I hope you realise it is for your own good as much as the good of everyone around you.
What theory of counterfactual conditionals do you subscribe to? I am a magic ersatzist.
Easy there Skyler, it's a poem not a personality test.
If it was, I'd believe you.