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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: aluminum haikudots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: to-wit
    Elite Ratio:    0.59 - 27/148/488
    Words: 498
    Class/Type: Poetry/Serious
    Total Views: 812
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 3158



    Description:
       


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

    dotsaluminum haikudots
    -------------------------------------------


    i love haiku.i love the way they wonder through my mind at our most beckon point.the love gentry sent me ronnies,and i got donnies in a fight.crushing on tammy's ass alot in my past,i do the dasterdly deed,people i feed,resteraunt work instead of poetry.but alas,i was misscasted.i thought i'd ask,the world,if i could make o' words,get paid a little money.people started acting funny.all up in love a little bit,some,but then they go dumb,and say your a bum.i trump them,and they keep walking.it was an easy win,but still no money,in the land of milk and honey.funny,some people call me little ginny,after allen ginsberg cause they believe they heard my word.ive been compared,to reece,burroughs,and those fellows know,those are the ones to be compared to most.and the ghost,charles longfellow,people have bellowed the we are simular,in stepping stones and rhymes vinacular.but i still have no money,and its funny,cause i have over a hundred books published.go to wordclay.com and look it up.they drop a line,and say its fine,im under review,it takes awhile to get paid when your new.i clue them in,i have no friends,nowhere to begin.i live in a trailor,right next to a railroad.i cant hear myself think,usually i blink,and the brood survives the night.yesterday,alright,i needed a knife,but not tonight.thats where i hide it.i dont abide them.i put them to sleep with my verbal treats still dancing in their head,there they go,off to bed.then the led starts to fly,from my pen they will die.my enemies,which are plenty,dont seem to send me,any, return fire.i need to be hired until this review is tired.im shyer than you think,i dont ever drink or do drugs,im not yesterdays thug.i pulled rugs and mopped floors at a pizza hut store.i went walking alot,to get my butterfingers and pop.i used to do that alot,late at night,till the cops gave me fright.now im home.left alone.i hear the ghosts groan.leave it alone.i phone in a wish,using my mind,and they tell me that im,a sign of the times.alot of the times i think of the girls from pizza hut,the girls that were hot,guess what?their names were julie,she lived in yulee,amanda too,always a smile for you.and this girl named ella,i pretended i was her fella.well,uhh,thats not all,chris conrad i saw.i called annie,shes gettin plenty,kristen worked there for only a short while,and i loved her miles.lindsey earwood is just good.megon johns i probably could.i could love her,from a far,but would never get to the part,of,open the heart.just what is it for,dana bean,you know what i mean.it seems michelle archer,was never the part you,would assigned,thats fine,the view was mine.and then theres april,who blew into racheal.i state your case,amanda piccard all over the place.shelly kertz,man it hurt i didnt know you better.maybe forever,who knows?then racheal clementoni goes,"chris,your just fine."to this i will sign.im a dime bug for melissa hatche's hug.it didnt happen enough.this is how i scraped through life,i should have cut it with a knife.thats a reference to a poem i wrote,dont worry,im the anti-dote.i showed em though.i could romance the few.thats it.and i do.




    Submitted on 2008-06-22 23:24:01     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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