and while we're griping

"it may not be fashionable to say it's unfashionable, but, "

poetry reader, you keep saying everything is unfashionable
that you read as if it were a badge. a very big badge. a huge
badge, so different in kind to those tiny lapel badges that
what-do-you-know? are back in fashion in my book.

'it's terribly unfashionable, but'
'it's unfashionable these days,'
'i know it's unfashionable'
'it may not be fashionable'

all these in twenty minutes.

i'm sorry but blandness sucks however you defend it. even when you champion it by demeaning others. mostly. few bland things are good and when they are they usually stop being bland, at least for a little while. your poetry was unfashionable, yes, but more importantly it was bland. your poetry was blandly bland and unfashionably unfashionable and dumbly dumb and said before and said again and sad before and sad again and sucky and sucky and sucky i'm sorry. you annoyed me with this unfashionable thing all the time. if it is rubbish who cares if it's fashionable and if it is good the same.

On Being Accused of Spamming For The First Time

I must confess it feels good:
some blood on my tongue
from my lip, look here

you remain in memory
a sickening indication
of everything you have

become, you can't hear
the spaces over here
where resentment's

harboured.

According to Celine Dion

THE

first time
ever I wore
your face

THE

score was laced
nil nil - null & void
under where

THE

second time
never I delay
but I lost

THE

place where
your face
was stored

THE

heart must go
on, presumably, no
not THAT face

that is Björn Andrésen i swear

my bonnie lies over the odeon,
face too happy, face too happy,
(it creeps the hell out of me)
it makes me unhappy and i do
not leave, without my bonnie
i can't see anymore, bring back
my bonnie to me i shout
(it creeps the hell out of you)
i think, but just bring back
my bonnie to me.