Replying to a comment on:
water falls
(
Free verse
) by
Bill Z Bub
through thousand small squares of open screen door rain becomes mist, collects, pools, and slicks. it thunders this BOOM in my wrist, in my head, neck, and chest when you mmm when you mmm we will bloom we will bloom.
EAger to Offend
3-Oct-03/11:09 AM
No, not by the lies in your poem. It's just like being an Iron Maiden fan for five albums and suddenly they put out some crap like "Somewhere In Time". THAT kind of "decieved".
Lived in Matheson and attended RM as a teen. Had to bike to Porcupine cause there were very few girls in Matheson.
I fear for you because this new poem leans in a very "done" style that I've been seeing on transit systems across Canada for the last 2 or 3 years. (It must be a Canada Council initiative... did you get a grant (read;bribe) to write this?) Anyway there's dope -I mean Hope for you yet - to bring your poetry standards back up, that is. Not for your team to get the cup. Many years of Harold Ballard karma to work off in that doomed city!!!
This Zamboni driver prefers rye and water (how northern ON) but I can settle on a pint of Alex Kieths if it's not kocher to let the lumberjack out!
What is ASL? I just found out what LOL is. You can call me Evan.
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