I'm comfoozled Mr. Pig.

all feeling and bad spelling. Were's the art?

Good structure, nice surprise. Usually I have a problem with diaphanous, overused poetry word, but works well here.

Great first two lines. The end is muddled.

Keep 'thrift'.

Lovely, freshly laundered sheets lovely
New socks lovely
The smell of burning dust from turning on the furnace for the first time this year lovely. Couplet after S2 needs rewriting. Doesn't jive with feel of poem.

Stanza after killer stanza. Is it the weather or my hormones? Everybodies writing is sharp these days.

Top-notch. I think if I had read this in some publication i would have pased out. There are things I want to say to you, but I no it is better not to reveal them. We are a kind.

This poem captures me like a trap. The words are so inticing, and then whoosh! the rope strangles my ankle, and in a split second I'm upside-down and dangling. Cut me down Mr. Pig. Take me back to the cottage, I'll fry you some taters, scrub out the bathtub, and all with Lady's hands.

Seriously you've built a profound thing. "Black jelly" "huntsmen" again the Judas- your father, doing what he must, and all of us hating him for it. Most importantly you cross the barrier and make menstruation a universal experience. I have never seen a man attempt it before, and I doubt I well ever see one do a better job of it.

Interesting. Very interesting. Somehow you manage Judas quite well. I'm intrigued by the way you make him blandly human. I think the 40 nights and the bleeding go very well together. It was a trial in the desert for him, and this life is a trial for us. We bleed through most of it, not always the bad kind, especially for we girls. Men use to bleed, but then the boys became frightened by it. Tell me, my beautiful Pig, why can't the boys be men? Things are getting desperate.

I'm giving this poem a ten because it says so much. Jesus can bleed but Judas musn't, it's not that he can't, it just that he has to make sure he plays his part inorder to make the promise come true. Fuck the pieces of silver, I believe he would have done it for free. If there is a Heaven, God must be showering Judas with gratitude.
Thank you so much for the demonstrations of love, it is greatly appreciated. Love you back.

You're power is in the seaweed egg-drop. Or perhaps it's the Ahi, broiled just right. Either way you win, straight out, 1st prize, and here we go...

"Magic tears of Happiness". A mother's tears.

Thisis going to take weeks for me. My son is 12, sleeps in my bed, holds my hand everywhere. Tells me he loves me 5, maybe 6 times each day. He looks at me straight in the eyes.

fix the end, otherwise perfect. Less is more, more is more. I'm a whore.

Blood on the tracks. I swear, you're on to something. Find find find.

"Dusking" and "same sky" you have crossed the thresh-hold, my favorite poem of yours.

A precious poem. Oh, how needing I am of the contrary point of view. This is a great poem, especially when spoken aloud. The last couplet's a true killer. I think you are under appreciated, congratulations, the world knows nothing of its greatest men.