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Things I Get Sick Of By: Richard Davidson on 11/24/2005; 3:04 AM Every day Another day goes by Where no one buys me a cabbage Makes me a king Elects me president Or nominates me pope How tiresome this grows Every Sunday I don't play quarterback for the Packers Dine with Hollywood's elite Or volunteer for the Red Cross I need a reason to live Or eat an apple I need my dog to come home Someday I'll name him
RE: Things I Get Sick Of By: Richard Davidson on 12/7/2005; 2:13 PM Ever day Another day goes by Where no one posts A critique of this poem A poem I was serious about And now I cry
RE: Things I Get Sick Of By: Brian Webber on 12/7/2005; 3:57 PM *snicker* Ah, the writer's dilemma. We both want and don't want criticism.
RE: Things I Get Sick Of By: Richard Davidson on 12/8/2005; 12:24 AM No, I only want criticism. I don't don't want it.
RE: Things I Get Sick Of By: Brian Webber on 12/8/2005; 3:13 AM This has the potential to turn into a Who's On First situation doesn't it?
RE: Things I Get Sick Of By: D. J. Dixon on 12/16/2005; 10:39 PM This poem "feels" funny. It's not so much that it's hilarious for there is a spark of pain or regret or at the very least discomfort. Yet, the cadence of the piece seems to lend itself to comedy. Is that what you were shooting for?
RE: Things I Get Sick Of By: Richard Davidson on 12/18/2005; 11:03 PM You're close. OK, actually, you're right on the money. Except for the not hilarious part.
RE: Things I Get Sick Of By: Chie Theresa Fujioka on 2/5/2006; 1:29 AM Every day another day goes by when i can't write and no one notices there's nothing of notice
Re: Things I Get Sick Of By: Mark Morgan on 2/7/2006; 2:20 PM I notice, Chie. We miss you. And your muse.
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