poetry critical

online poetry workshop


Fuck that shit,
I'm going to the bar.
Moldy bread is
out of style,
and trees don't wanna
talk anymore.
Bleach is my perfume
these days,
and novelties
are short-lived.
My God,
how many shoes
can one woman own?
Felix would roll over
in his grave
if he knew the subsidized rate
of circumstance.
Damn, those bushes
are looking pretty soggy.
Starve them, Seymour,
... And I don't even
feel a thing.

18 Oct 05

Rated 10 (7.2) by 1 users.
Active (1): 10
Inactive (6): 1, 5, 7, 7, 8, 9

(define the words in this poem)
(50 more poems by this author)

(1 user considers this poem a favorite)

Add A Comment:
Enter the following text to post as unknown: captcha


wow, fucking really good. i love this poem. says so much in so little words, and finally something with some flavor and angst.(9)
 — infinity

Interesting. Interesting ideas, yet lacking in coherence. You also need some punctuation, and your line breaks could use some work.
 — claudia

this flows well without punctuation and has great... energy.
 — b00

Interesting poem.
Breaks are a bit odd.
The flow comes in every now and then.
L20 and 21. in quotes perhaps?

 — Gabriella

i dont understand it
 — unknown

... Lol?
 — Aziel

An interesting stream of consciousness piece but it doesn't really say much other than you are bored and have nothing truly important or even very coherent to say. Sometimes, I suppose, that is the case and therefore it is a relevant enough piece in its own right but it doesn't hold much appeal for me.  
 — nakedowl

Hmm. *thinking*
 — themolly

It's super old and a fairly crappy incoherent write about having to clean up my house after hurricane Katrina, don't think too hard. Lol.
 — Aziel

eye kunt think.
; )
 — fractalcore