So, I Failed your Rorschach Test

[tectak]

todd/milo edit1/version2.0
Hi chris, I will stick to pointed pedant crit. Too much to like to justify a dirty bomb. Here's my Neutron drop...no collateral damage
[b]So, I Failed your Rorschach Test

because someone dripped asphalt
and spattered that blood,
then folded those cards; and/then make for weak chronology. You could easily lose BOTH words.
were they experts or a child? Seems inexpert english Why plural experts singular child?

Big deal,
confusing vague butterflies
for vaginal spotting or porno cream pie.
It’s a poorly-designed cryptic
game that could never define

my state of mind. Sorry but this line break is gimmicky...it has no purpose before or after.

Since I see
bizarre patterns
in nearly everything, why must I
conform to your consensus No no. A concensus of one is nonsense
of the norm?

Whether animal pelts and bats
or genital sacks and flaps,
they’re somewhat disturbing
in those reds and blacks. Excellent stanza

Right now doctor,
don’t you see
your Venetian blinds?
How they section your office
into black and white spines. There is something wrong here but it is to pedantic to mention. Oh bugger, did I mention it; how could I?

When it comes to your hide,
it’s so clear in my mind,
like excised zebra stripes
in De Stijl promenade.

Why you’re even bar-coded,
encrypting bad Muzak
and I hear you being played the and word again and again.I just know you will and again
ivory white on black
like piano keys,
as I sing this song for you as then and. Too much simultaneous action makes the piece stick in time. OK. I know. Small nit but one I fall foul of often.
and me

about your dissected organs
blotted upon cards.
That's it. This is me liking it a whole lot.
Best,
tectak

todd/milo edit1/version2.0 Much Obliged!
------------------------------
Who dripped that asphalt,
spattered the blood
or folded those cards,
were they experts or a child?

Big deal,
confusing vague butterflies
for vaginal spotting or porno cream-pie.
It’s a poorly-designed cryptic
game that could never surmise

my state of mind.

Since I see bizarre patterns
in nearly everything,
why must I conform to
your consensus of the norm?

Whether animal pelts and bats
or genital sacks and flaps,
they’re somewhat disturbing
in those reds and blacks.

Right now doctor,
don’t you see
your Venetian blind?
How it sections your office
into black and white spines,

each sodden with the blood
of graded indifference?

When it comes to your hide,
it’s so clear in my mind,
like excised zebra stripes
in De Stijl promenade.

Why you’re even bar-coded,
encrypting bad Muzak
and I hear you being played
black on white
like piano keys,
as I sing this song for you
and me

about your dissected organs
blotted upon cards.