poetry critical

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old mister turkey

hello, mister turkey
i say to the wattled black giant
on the lawn
a buzzard actually
how the fuck do i know
i'm from brooklyn
lady next door alarmed
he's taken two squirrels this morning up the corner where the school bus stops
i got no words for her
just eyebrows, lips.
forest lakes all wuzz buzz buzz
busy busy bees hiding
cats, pugs and precious babies
from old mister turkey
but he just sits
swaying back, forth
      stretches out
his black cape
never blinks
i got to fly so
on twenty nine and
zeeeeeeow i scowl at the sun
secretly wish i had
a black cape

5 Mar 08

Rated 8 (7) by 1 users.
Active (1): 8
Inactive (3): 2, 6, 10

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edit the middle
 — unknown

be specific
 — unknown

L5 - what the fuck do I know
S2 lose dashes and indentation and maybe
last line
L12,26,27 weak
S4 spacing awkward
 — poetbill

preciate it. thanks pb.
 — unknown

thanks for the 1, fellow unknown :) got a comment to go with it? i m not here for the ratins...
 — unknown

 — unknown

who's it insulting? im not clear on that. please explain. im slow.
 — jumpoline

im confused. its just a story about a buzzard on my corner. no subtext except that im jealous that everyone's afraid of him.
 — jumpoline

Tosty is the confused one
 — unknown

 — jumpoline

i don't know how anyone could think this was about anything but a turkey
or a buzzard.
i love that word.  buzzard.  
reminds me of a boy wanting to be a superhero.  
 — jenakajoffer

havent seen that old bastard since that day.

still want the cape.
 — jumpoline

consider moving 'wind' up to l18.
also 'wishing' in l28?

lovely poem, n.

 — unknown

would make an interesting scene in a movie...or even a short-film...maybe.

pretty sweet little piece you have here, i was mildly entertained.
 — DeformedLion

thanks for reading, v, lion.

 — unknown

i like this pome
 — unknown

always surprised nobody like this but me
 — unknown

i think about this poem from time to time
i love it.  do you still post, jumpy?
 — jenakajoffer

The title stinks as much as the poem.
It's god-damn gibberish. This isn't poetry,
this is the opposite of all that's good in poetry.
Stop trashing these pages with garbage
 — unknown