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    dots Submission Name: even and odd.dots

    Author: freeradical
    ASL Info:    22/feline/london
    Elite Ratio:    5.26 - 311/405/63
    Words: 146
    Class/Type: Poetry/Satire
    Total Views: 1159
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 1007

       flibbity gibbit and all that.

    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotseven and odd.dots

    stuck. stuck. stuck.

    my finger's in the light socket,
    my feet are on the floor.

    my mind is eighteen millions miles away,
    in armpit, idaho for all i know.

    or care.

    this frustration reaches straight to the tips
    of my toes,
    courses through me like lightening.


    it's a scream lodged in my throat,
    a stiffy gone soft,
    a child stuck in the carseat.

    are we there yet?

    fuck shaving my legs
    that won't make you want to touch me.

    what should i do?
    open my legs instead of my mind,
    the television screams
    while i cover my ears.

    if i have to play the whore
    you have to play the intellectual.
    and you'll wax philosophical
    and i'll wax my pussy

    and we'll call it even.

    even though it's odd.

    Submitted on 2007-12-05 23:50:49     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    Rate This Submission

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    ||| Comments |||
      "f i have to play the whore
    you have to play the intellectual.
    and you'll wax philosophical
    and i'll wax my pussy

    and we'll call it even.

    even though it's odd."

    HAHAHA! Pure genius. I can tense a lot of sexual frustration. What's wrong Kitty? It seems like your sexual desire is pouring back from poetry in a desperate attemt to find some kind of normality. I know, I know I've been reading to much psichology lately... Anyway good poem!
    | Posted on 2007-12-09 00:00:00 | by Paradox | [ Reply to This ]
      this was good....it lacked any kind of flow but it was good
    | Posted on 2007-12-06 00:00:00 | by taintedsmiles | [ Reply to This ]
      See, this is why I'm thankful I don't have to deal with this drama.

    I like the sharpness of this piece. It is strong, witty and it possess a good measure of bitterness - enough for you to be angry but not enough for you to stop having fun with it.

    What makes this even more powerful are the things that you do not say. Like the sense of hope and tenderness that revolves in between the lines... and the notion of full blown human complexities that makes us want to hold on to the things that make us feel alive... regardless of how much it hurts.

    And no matter how revolutionary we all are, do we not want the whole fairytale package? The happy ending notion that comes after all the dragons and the witches and the biting apples?

    Sure we do. Ofcourse, the only problem with that is that some of us think that we should wear gowns, corsets and glass slippers in order for that notion to come to life.

    Anyway... this is pretty good.
    | Posted on 2007-12-06 00:00:00 | by ANGELO | [ Reply to This ]
      perhaps not caring is deadly
    perhaps deadly is what you need right now
    this is one of those 'i just dont think ill ever get over you' pieces that exudes confusion and longing and everything in between.

    your imagery is right in your face. as if talking about whoring and pussy will get his attention and cause him to think [hoping that intellectuality would occur and he would realise what a giant moron he is for letting a gorgeous girl like you out of his world]

    are we there yet?
    do we know where there is?
    there sometimes isnt where we want it to be...

    i like your even and odd thing at the end... its very well done. call it even. even though it is odd. well call things the stupidest things sometimes in hopes we can fool ourselves its really something else...

    take care of you doll
    | Posted on 2007-12-06 00:00:00 | by Someones Epiphany | [ Reply to This ]
      Life is odd. So is the opposite sex when trying to understand. At least, it's like that for me.

    Wax philosophical; wax your pussy... I understand what you mean. It's such a predicament... hopeless, as if, that's what you/I/we are supposed to do... because it's a role you must fulfill. At least, to others who think this. But really, it's all a crock. And you know it. And I know it.

    Nothing makes sense. It's all... I don't know... senseless.


    | Posted on 2007-12-06 00:00:00 | by alteredlife | [ Reply to This ]

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