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barbers and bartenders


     and bartenders
              to you
                              at you

             letting you
                  let it
                     on out

                 I sob
                    and mewl
       for     a tug
                of an ear
       or     a shave
               of a fool

                I just
               like a
                           the drink
                           the truly
                           the truly
                           terrible news

               these pillars,
       rickety and
         tall and

            so let
                    it out
                the weeps
               and guffaws

                                    to tip 

Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Editing stage: 


Interesting title... Very! It caught my attention and made me want to read the piece. And I really like your style of presentation. It makes the poem flow well and is easy to read. (others may disagree with this, but I'm an odd-ball, so it amused me greatly)

The subject matter is off the beaten path, which I also like. It is not a run of the mill poem! Fresh and new.

I have no suggestions for this piece, just appreciation. I wouldn't change a word.

always, Cat

When you fling poo, some of the stink sticks to you!

"The Book of Styx" can be ordered and purchased on line at:

But the form still confused me a little. I agree with Candlewitch about the structure really directing the flow and pacing, but throughout reading this poem I was thinking what is the 'message' or 'imagery' with the structure.

This is still an interesting poem and I loved the content and title however the form just threw me a little.

But it might be just because when I see structure like this I think of concrete poetry.

This is so out of left field, I can't think of anything to say. Viva la experimentation!

W. H. Snow

A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds. Percy Bysshe Shelley

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