poetry critical

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me and Tom at the bar

We walked in there just the two of us well OK what we did was that we walked right in there and here’s one of the things that we did well my friend Tom who was with me well when we walked in the door he just up and took old poppa Sellars who handles the coats i guess he just stands there by the coats handling them but really he does a good job and my friend Tom took poppa’s shirt collar right up in his hand just gripping him right around the neck and well what he did was lift ole Sellars way up there actually just from his collar and it was quite a sight to see because everyone knows that poppa’s been having a hard time with his weight and when he was up in the air like that Tom said to me oh look at the little crybaby up there making tears oh i bet he wants his momma doesn’t he and we both laughed pretty hearty if i remember correctly you could even say we hooted at the guy before Tom let him fall down and then we went and got beers

15 Jan 07

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ok, if I stop laughing I can say something but man...!
I didn't know what I was getting myself into by the 3rd run-on line thinkin' I'm going to have to puke on another one of your poems (I don't like to be mean you know).
Well, putting everything aside and no crits about poetry, I pictured myself drunk as hell listening with such intensity in that "i know man, I love you man" wasted kind of way.  I loved it.  
You did what you intended, really funny.
 — jenakajoffer

This is hardly a poem. It should go where Tetto should go. That is straight to hell. Donald Tetto is a bastard. He deserves to die. I wish that one man would have grabbed Tetto's head and ripped it off his body. Leave this comment alone, moderator.
 — unknown

hahaha, thanks to both of you, sincerely.

 — steveroggenb