May I count to 100 by -10-'s?

I always feel like I have just had an anal douche and forgot to shut my mouth when I read your poemes. -1-0-

Dovina and Dar_Angel: Thanks much for your nice comments. Dovina, you're right, this shouldn't be "Concrete." I was a little confused over all the categories, but now I understand. However, I can't change it without losing the current comments/votes, so it'll have to stay as such for now. Thanks again for the reviews.

This poem is sweeter than Splenda.-10-

As a man trapped in a woman's body, I must confess that you are right. -10-

I liked the concept and the twist at the end. Some rhymes could have been a bit "weirder" in keeping with the subject, for example: Some people pierce "down under" below the waist; above the knees. Wait a minute! Does that make it sound like an Australian piercing? Your poem works for me. -9-

I'll give fifty cents for the scenery and because most of tha ants are sick.

A trampled on sperm-splat.

This is appalling. To think of the rain dog shivering and the some snow cold bird, really evokes massive feelings of having just gargled with Sperm.

Either I am being jolly dim and don't understand your emittence, giving me the intellgence of a sqeaky parp compared to your large voiding of follow through, or your poem was a colossal waste of time both to write and to read. On the plus side I really like the use of spacing.

The Homo Lord poeme To make this you will require: One gay A computer Internet access Appalling adjectives Turgid imagery A 0

Thats a hardcore poem baby!!!Are you really this depressed and if so why?It makes me sad to think how lonely you must be!Thank you very much for voting and reading my poem and your poem was very good also,your rhyming skills very good!! Your Friend,Peekster!!

Howdy, D. Nice beat here. A serious answer to your question of why I left: I think my poetry sucks. No kidding. I'm just not measuring up to what I expect of myself. And now back to our regularly scheduled silliness: I left because, in high school, I didn't get the safety program that went: Bill got mixed up with the wrong internet crowd. He wants to try poetry. Careful, Bill, it's difficult. No, Bill, you can't spondee! You'll hurt yourself! Too bad for Bill. No, I get the one: Bill wants to try Rachmaninoff. Ok. I didn't get that one, but I did get the one that goes: Bill wants to try Air-traffic-control. Well, you can see where that led to.

Your switch to the first person in the last line is distracting. Otherwise vivid.

Kooky.

Yes JZ. Cruise control.

If you grovel for me, I'll tell you where god lives. So that you might send him a more refined query.

That, or you're near-sighted.

Kindly stow it.

What a lovely sack of fuck.