Replying to a comment on:
Limbs
(
Free verse
) by
Dovina
Live oak limbsâ Crooked, unorganized. Lightning boltâ Jagged, as if lost going home. Never linear for long, Deluded by fluff, Wanderers on whims. Built in an instant Or century, Like me, The easiest shape.
zodiac
11-Dec-04/6:06 AM
Reading this comment, I wondered briefly how you might respond to the suggestion that the reason your poems can go in so many 'directions' is that they utterly fail to say anything at all coherently.
My guess is, "Poot".
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