I wanted to point out the lamitude and lack of imagination in your title. After I'd done that, I became overwhelmed with a desire to see you mutilated and in agony. That's all.

Cheers mate!

Your inability to produce worthwhile verse, or to make any insightful observation, is matched only by your inability to correctly write my name. It is spelled with two hyphens, two equals signs and an underscore. I went to the trouble of legally changing it, so you might as well get it right.

I have thus far refrained from noting that your pen-name (minus 'z' and plus 'Ch') is 'Chodiac'. Do you think the non-alphanumeric characters in my name are somehow less important than the others? What is more, the whole fucking point of my name is to be the worst, most clichéd name possible. Next you'll be telling 'foothangingoutofass' that his name ends in 'ass'.

So because some well-known, crappy film is released, this beautiful poeme has to be vandalised? Do you not see that by giving 'Vanilla Sky' a monopoly on the phrase 'Vanilla Sky' you are making a mere husk of a film, that would otherwise have been forgotten in the balms of mediocrity, into a mad, laughing urchin, bulging with far more influence than it deserves? How dare you.

I don't know what you're talking about. I am fully aware that Jesus slaughtered Himself for me, and that I will be judged for my sins. But I attend a Church at least twice a week, and it is one of the largest, most prestigious Churches in the country. It is easily worthy of God's love, and it has one of the highest steeples I have ever seen. Church steeples were built to reach closer to God in Heaven, so the taller the better, since that way God is more likely to hear your prayers. It's not my soul I'm worried about, smlink84, since having spoken to God through the medium of prayer and spiritual revelation, I know He has plans for me in Heaven. You are the one I'm worried about. You who have seen fit to judge me on God's behalf. I will pray for you utterly.

By that logic, ev'ry one of my poemes should be condensed into a single word: hope.

Yes! You should post another version of this poeme - its mathematical dual, if you will - describing the opposite affliction: constipation. Togeth'r, the two would become more pow'rful than you could possibly imagine, boldly encompassing the complete browne spectrum in a single, terrifying wipe.

Yes! You should post another version of this poeme - it's mathematical dual - describing the opposite affliction: constipation. Togeth'r, the two would become more pow'rful than you could possibly imagine, boldly encompassing the entire browne spectrum in a single, terrifying wipe.

Alternate verse 3:

Summoned he all mann'r of priest,
But their holy tinctures
Ne'er could make the leaking cease,
Though they sooth'd his sphincter.
Balming ev'ry crack with myrrh
'hind his back they linger'd
Laughing at their King's demur:
"I will not be fi-ing-ger'd!"

On 13th Feb jasondingus credited 'your' poeme with an -10-. From 13th Feb to 23rd Feb you balmilised yourself in that -10-, basking in its splendour and revelling in the credit you took from it. Unless you can prove that you gain'd no pleasure from that vote before your admission of the 'borrowed' 1st verse on 23rd Feb, I'm afraid your jodhpurs will remain at half-mast. A belated admission of guilt simply will not do, since it is like stealing some money but only apologising after you have squander'd it on a vast collection of antique digital watches and Thundercats quilts. -10-