this is plagiarism/admin

[tectak]

An Ode and but a re-write to A Summer Night.

9PM
The bear itself was choked with might,
it play at moving pot and hoist;
pumped across the hope-glazed frown,
in cathedrals meshed against almighty why?,
the river poops it's forlorn depths,
in oft spent bar, in steamed-up zip-locks.
Though winter wheezed in squallard bog,
sweat-drenched favour poked with stars,
and shot back warm, white, oozing jail.

10PM
Old lay prime spent of life
mopeds rush for Modish haunts;
then flushed and florid, folded in
to eggwhites, peakless, aimless waves,
as horses lost the stallion-slapped mare.
Extinguished by the press of rump
the flame of phallus flickered out
with every parting shadow lift,
‘till only one or two kicked horseshoes
along the cobblestones rutted path.

11PM
Soon the pill of last-to-heave
miracles unto sprawling, open song.
Mare laughed at metaphors for moons,
Baboon's Pecan's, an Orange friend;
then crossed in peril, Off and on,
the flashing amber fired each face.
In bonded knots they stumbled home
each sharing legs from either side,
'til in the distance they were rammed.
Without the living on the branches
the silence added to the heat.

12 Midnight
No one baboon in cramped, dank cage
with peeling fruit and curtailed existence,
where ceiling fans clanked slowly round
in office hope of stifling air;
they lay in salt-steeped, lucid dreams,
pickled from the inside out, and outside in.
How fitfully a toss or cough
disturbs the suffocating hand.
Each bladder warning opens eyes;
invokes the same incanted mouth.
Just end the tunnel, the mow of the lawn,
bring one more asshole, moist and bare.

Utter nonsense. That is the first impression so I read it again. Utter nonsense. Now, to critique. A line by line would not help. I am sticking my head above the parapet as it is. A deconstruction of this bowl of alphabet soup yields up nothing of merit. I could write the next verse in seconds and, this is important, get the same acclaim or otherwise as you will for posting this. It seems that you are making the minimum effort to produce the maximum impact and I am afraid that this rarely produces anything worthy...so...what to do? Will you defend the piece? If so, you will need to show intent. That means convincing the honest crits that you understand the meaning of words. I am not convinced. It means that you have coherent thoughts which by clever and succinct methods you can transmit to the reader. I am not convinced. It means, more importantly, that you expect to receive at least serious comment and at the most critical acclaim for your work. I cannot. My failing? Perhaps, but we shall see. I will read it again.
Utter nonsense. All is opinion.
By the by, you have used one of my lines...but out of context.
Best,
tectak