Is this about chair safety? It's brilliant.

Just when I thought it couldn't get any better, you include an utterly random chorus at the end. Nice one!!!11

"not doubt"?

Wow. That's the most original Christmas thought ever. It's so important that we stop to think, at least once, about the true meaning of Christmas. Because in today's fast paced world of microwave dinners and plastic toys (as opposed to the more traditional woods), baby Jesus has been lost, only to be replaced by a giant Sony Dreamcast Cube (or whatever it is the little brats like to play with these days).

If someone threatened to blow up a school unless you thought perverted things and wrote them down, would those perverted thoughts corrupt your inner cavern?

A parp; yet only a parp.

Mathematically, Brownian motion is a Wiener process.

What a squalid and ignoble dunce cap, on a poetic career of steadily diminishing returns. -10-

You are cordially invited to submit an application to join The Rutherford Club:

http://tinyurl.com/5pkxc

You always were one for 'going solo', but I never thought you'd actually pay homage to the virtues of self-stimulation in quite so public an arena. For that, sir, you are to be savagely mocked beyond thunderdome. Good day.

Before deleting everything to kingdom come, you asked for an explanation:

Your poeme contains the phrases "mound", "inner evils", "porcelain", "lust", and "lets out a sigh". Perhaps that's why I was so easily led astray, soiling you to the hilt with that extract from my bumoirs. You asked for help, but if my stained portfolio is anything to go by, you have little to gain from any more of my opinions. Unless, of course, you feel like spending an evening CHEZ TURD?

Don't listen to Dovina. She knows nothing about poetry, and is most likely jealous of you because your poemes rhyme -10-

"Listen, dear, you couldn't write FUCK on a dusty Venetian blind." - Coral Browne

Oh dear, another hopelessly bungling "math poeme". We can only pray the meltdown doesn't send the poemeranker server into a Hysteria.

Good heavens. I had no idea the Lord made so many grammatical errors when He spoke. Then again, English is his second language.

Is English your first language?

It's always a time for celebration, the day you finally become housebroken. For what you once thought would suddenly flee, is now under firm command. You've learned to let go, my son. It's a lesson that will stay with you for many years to come, until, of course, you become an elderly. Here's to life, love, and the unpampered pursuit of happiness. Welcome to The Rutherford Club.

I found this poeme incredibly hurtful. My mother actually is handicapped, and when I see people like you trivialising something that is a serious problem for many real people, it makes me angry and sad. <no vote>

PLAGIARISM ALERT PLAGIARISM ALERT PLAGIARISM ALERT
http://www.netacc.net/~gradda/lighter4.html
see under "From Susan Tanguy"

What the hell are you talking about? This is just shit. Mathematically, this poeme is uninteresting. Unless you're fascinated by the fact that not all operators are identical. Poetically, all you've done is sprawl out this observation in a stupid, non-rhyming, tedious blanket of guff.