It's a good little slogan about love (glue) as I see it. But I don't see the significance of the spacing.

Line 6: "lead" should be "led". Apart from that error whivh I shall charitably assume is a typo, I liked this poem even though it's a bit derivative.

I have mixed feelings here. I loathe the Americanised spelling of meagre and sepulchre. And this alleged modernity clashed with the archaic and pseudo-poetic "ev'ry". And punctuation: if you eschew capitals I feel you could drop the commas and fullstops (or as you amusingly and coyly call them "periods").

A 10 for returning from the dead.

Job, darn well. Grammar implied. *9*

It looses it's humor because you take the surprise out of the punchline. Try an approach that is more like this: Imagine my surprise, imagine my dread. A little voice whispers at the foot of my bed. "While ol' Edna's asleep-" the little voice said "-I'll give you some beak, hurry up, go ahead put it in my tail feather, oh lord it's so large" Only now did I realize that the voice was George. George my pet parrakeet and Samson his cagemate like to jailbirds in heat buttfucking in their cage Imagine my shock Imagine my rage two gaybirds are in my bedroom engaged in such an unholy screw. Well, I was irated. So I did what any good Christain would do, I watched them and masturbated.

What, no rimjob? Ps. There is no loincloth. He's not Tarzan.

Ew. That aside, I was wondering, does this poem have a point? I mean, are you actually trying to say something meaningful, apart from (the obvious) provocation for provocation's sake?

Great description, nifty bit of wordplay at the start of stanza 3 as well. 'Slurry' made me think you were going to bring in some more farmyard 'piggish' language here (playing off the name). Didn't get the Cofa and Pippin references, I assume they're your own personal touch.

Nice work. There's a typo in line 12, and I don't like the capitalisation of 'she' toward the end; it could just be the font, but generally speaking I'm not a fan of capitalisation for emphasis. It's usually unnecessary. The other thing is that I remember ecargo saying to me in one of my poems that the rhymes were somewhat distracting - I think the same applies here. On my reading it would have gone a little more smoothly without the rhymes. Others may disagree though. That's the nitpicks done, now for the credit. The story is very well told, concise but not vague - which isn't easy to achieve. It's very tactile as well; I can see the scenes pretty clearly. Question: the last line - 'would'. Being conditional, I'm a little confused as to this. It seems that there's something preventing her asking (almost like he's dead) but up till then there was nothing to suggest such an eventuality. Might it work better as 'will'?

Be more sincere. Man, you need to be more honest. What "past regrets". What "dwelling in hatred and pain". Take a big shit, then tell us how it felt.

She may have been an evil old goat, but then again we're not noted for churning out good, benevolent and just royalty. Besides, Gordon's is part of the national heritage; for them to go out of business would be like losing the World Cup. Oh, wait...

Total worthless bollocks.

I have found better poems in the local public lavvy.

Job, darn well. Grammar implied.

Neat, 'very difficult' didn't quite feel right though. I'd have used 'is not easy', but then, that's my preference.

I titled a poem 'Mannequin'. It wasn't as catchy as this though.

See, nobody holds grudges here - no zero for zero. Metamoprhosis seems wrong; that happenes before they seek out the flame. Maybe "plaything."

But you will probably grow old, and with your own kind of wisdom, another finger pointing in another direction. This poem is too general; it classifies based on age, like racism clasifies based on race. May I suggest that you look at each old person for for the possibility of some glimmer of real wisdon.

Anal is next to godliness.