the lines stretch out at each end
forming tendrils that lash at me
wind around my neck and squeeze and squeeze
as of late
the words of others giggle quietly at even intervals
in rhythms and rhymes designed specifically
to make me nod in agreement
lately consonance and assonance
and all the mechanics i know backward and forward
have growled and glowered at me from around dark corners
knowing full well i can't do much to shut them up
lately when i read other people's poetry
it makes me sad
not because the words are sad
but because i know i should have written it.






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Boogey Dancing:
[link]
Boogey Dancing: Monkey Pot:
[link]
Because you know you can't resist sexy people coming out of your closet late at night.
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'Imagination is the body of God'
- William Blake
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"Poetry is the perfume of the soul." - Otep Shamaya
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i was wondering, what would i have to do if i wanted to do admin stuff on your other page, idiosyncratik?
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[link]
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check out my
[link]
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It's not really cold out until the dog has frozen himself to the fire hydrant.
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