He received in the mail a few days ago, as did the other 65,000 subscribers to Poets and Writers Magazine a postcard for the Iowa Writer's Conference. That is what placed the fictitious idea in his head. Just like when he listens to Cake, he conjures he writes the lyrics for them. Just like he says he received a GED in the brig, yet he graduated from a high school in Michigan. Besides, can you get into the armed services without a high school diploma if the draft is not in place? Let's see, he frequently visits the ranch of Val Kilmer in Taos with his made up son to fly paper airplanes and slam at the Poetry Circus there. This is odd, because I did not see or hear of anyone there named Jeremi Handrinos. At least not in the later rounds. See, he is a hard hittin street poet in the nature of Jim Morrison (although The Doors replaced Morrison with The Cult's lead singer for the upcoming tour, which is now on hold, so he failed there). And because of this he is constantly creating, even if it means personas for himself. He is a true genius. And although anyone can get into the conference with a check, conferences are a joke. He is already a far better writer than myself. So please, give him three cheers and a kiss from Tommy Lee, his next-door neighbor.

This is what mulleretard had to say about you....and yes i think he's a better writer than me by a few years, but after i go to the iowa writer's workshop this summer who knows, maybe i'll catch up.....hahaha

This coming from the master of taut writing: Mr. Horus8.

for me, this poem is supposed to be long, its supposed to capture the stages i went through when i played that night. i came out angry, i was playing because of the physical feeling of throwing a ball at something...i missed many times just because all i wanted was to throw something and hear a thud. eventually though, i began to think about what i was doing, i began to make the shots...to get good at it and to concentrate on what i was doing. it was at a point where i wasnt thinking about anything else...the only thing in my mind was where i should stand, how much force i should put into it, how much of an arc...and then i became tired and my shots werent making it and i was out of breath..but i wasnt angry anymore. i had forgotten it. thats what this poem is about, its supposed to be long, its supposed to perhaps be even longer than it could, and to be somewhat repetitive. thats what i had in mind when i wrote it. i do think it needs a simple rewrite, to cut back on a few things, but overall its trying to portray a certain idea, and in my mind it needs its length.

why use 500 words than when you can compress life even more. poetry is about compressing. prose is about explaining in detail here example in haiku Parents fight, alot. On the court i vent, escape. With sweat comes wisdom. either or, it's all good. i still think underneath it all there is always more brewing and if there's not, there should be. writing is like acting and performing music it's about heightening the stories and experience, not flattening them..otherwise we would be flooded with one dimensional blee blee until we all folded into complaisancy. i think that there is a specific reason behind everything and to ignore that is to doom oneself into routines of fog enshrouded submissiveness. defined motivation is the key to brilliant writing. understanding terms to understand oneself. label actions, and pull from that file in confidence. don't settle for less, beg for more. i play basketball when i'm lonely, i'm frustrated, i need to feel in control, i need to touch something i'm familiar with, to escape, to feel good about myself again, to lose weight, for fun, to watch cindy zuniga practice with the cheerleading squad..there is always a reason..always!..to say there isn't..is to be unaware, and immature. i enjoyed the piece, but i write, he plays basketball, and i know for a fact. it could be better, and it will, to eat simply because your hungry is to miss out on just how good some food can truly be.

i dont even know what my anger was about...often i just go out and play when i feel something boiling up inside me that i cant contain and just want to get rid of. i'll think about your advice though...i can see a story coming out of this...thank you!