yes

Is the church both siding and stucco? How hideous. I suppose you'll say, religion usually is.

The best poem about compulsive masturbation I've read in a while. -10-

God, you're spineless. I suppose you think you're heroic for that?

Ahh, I see you've joined the Church of Bethy.

At a guess, an adolescent martyr complex. Seriously. Don't worry, you'll grow up before you do yourself any real harm. If it's taking you a little longer than other people, that's just because you're a precious flower and require extra special packing.

Ironically nature is usually the inspiration for building designs. Besides if man is part of nature shouldn't manmade objects be. Aren't beaver damns part of nature. I think mankind tries to make itself more special than it is.

Either: I promptly shoot myself in a foot. or I'm promptly shooting myself in a foot. Only one line in the whole poem does not contain the word I or My. People hate that.

Some meter trouble in the first two stanzas. It's getting there.

You again. Do you consider the Big Bang and creation of Earth to be part of the process of evolution, or did the poem just kind of spaz out at that point?

Great. And you've been reading Cannery Row, too. Extra points.

I like everything except all the "Ohs". Makes you sound like Dorothy in Oz.

PS: Oh and God? Could you make my penis grow another inch?... Thanks God. Hey there ladies.

If Spock wrote poetry. Get Kirk to spice it up a little.

The relationship between thick cut rug and invisible trousers is intriguing. Do you wear the rug like a large conical skirt? I enjoyed this.

It is unseemly for a woman to indulge so frequently as you in creative writing. Creativity is, overwhelmingly, a masculine trait, and your having the presumption to trespass so freely on its buttocks does you little credit. Notwithstanding a few notable exceptions, among whose company I'd have no hesitation in including Miss Jane Austen, a woman's brain can only be described as "unbelievably appalling." Ill-suited to poetry, ill-suited to academia, and ill-suited to discussing Important Matters Of The Towne. Devote yourself to embroidery, the recital of sweet music, and kittens. Thereafter, you shall find yourself much the happier, and far more likely to secure a sound marriage.

Yu hit it on the head

Viceral. Not more much to say. ARt. subje-C---tiv--v.

truly great sentiment

I liked when she died face down on fresh linen. 'Beauty' was shot in the hind leg tried to stand three times but fell. But all in all not enough insight or images that will stick in my mind. It reads like hopelessly melancholic list of how crap things are. "Grandma's dead, I'm a bastard, Grandpa shot my horse, Grandpa's dead" Perhaps just focus on one of these.