Are you Crystal Lane Swift in disguise?

Decent idea presented in rather generic fashion.

"What good are my words on paper?" Toilet paper, maybe?

Hard hittin' street poetry if there ever was hard hittin' street poetry.

It was so cute in those days when you were just poor little Ranger – the little brit popper that couldn’t.

I still think some of the imagery here is a bit arbitrary and when laid out in a literal sense, quite confusing.

Don't you read the New York Times? God is dead!

Why do you start the poem out with “For”? Why not just “Under”. Shadow "laid" like a spring? Maybe we have the whole pond difference going on, but a spring over here usually involves 1) water 2) water coming from some sort of pure source, usually way above where the farm animals or any animals for that matter, defecate 3) hot water bubbling up from the depths (i.e. hot spring) for the delight of old people to bathe in. So in no way, over here that is, can I possible see any form of spring crating a shadow. Good god man: Make sense. Oh, and what an awkward use of the semi colon. After the first stanza the acne clears up a bit, but the looking over the birches at the willow tree just doesn’t do it for me.

You write like Richa, except in this case you make more sense.

Please tell which one are you ? www.tommys-bookmarks.com

Such generic thinking, and to come from such a hard hittin' street poet and budding screenwriter as yourself. It is in these rants that your severe lack of education shows. Alas, the bucklehead arises and speaks the truth of the blue-collar beat. Rise up proletariats. Rise up!!!!

So exactly what demographic are you aiming for with this lyrical mayhem?

Hasty generalizations will only make you look foolish.

Reading Lawrence without the D.H. and drinking Chivas how ghastly laughable and remarkably “oh my darling I have this English degree so I just might as well spout what I know here and now.” Anyway, where was I now? “Ribbony (I am a writer therefore I can make up words just like my long dead hero cummings – huh – he had cum in his mane dude) roads?” Exactly (now you are in Nevada home of the E.T. Highway so maybe you were abducted and taken to a land where roads are of a substance much lighter than concrete and asphalt) what is the literary objective here. Hmmm. Let’s see. Ribbony. Circular. You are in Nevada. There are no cloverleaf highways except in Las Vegas. Oh. I love it. Lawrence without the D.H., Chivas and Las Vegas. How so post modern and decadent like all at the same time. Or ribbony – meaning narrow, as in strip as in reference to endless. It is Nevada, drive where you like. Breathe the beautiful air. Love again. At least triolet is close to toil or toilet, which oddly enough is where I must go now.

Jeremi B. Handrinos I knew you would make it to the top. I am with GW. My soul has truly been kissed by this masterpiece. Farawell my beloved, stay ribbony.

The true question here is: Are you really Dave's lady? And if so why would you represent yourself in an oddly public setting such as poemranker as the property of a man? Are you so hung up and emotionally connected to this Dave that you have lost any sense of individual self and simply become 1) your gender (in this case lady) and 2) an extension of someone else (in this case Dave)?

Is this about Dave?

Yes, barkeep I would like a gin and tonic water!!!!

Are you Dave?

I find myself inclined to critique this seriously. No wait. I changed my mind.