Published November 22, 2006
I feel kinda bad about posting this because i haven't review in a long time... Oopsy...
Ah well, I'll try harder now. 
Anyway, the poem:
Riding shotgun with a nine-horse
engine, sipping dunkin donuts cups
of genuine hazelnut coffee.
With backstreet drivers calling out to
damn your, inane singing with the
latest on the radio.
The bass of 95.7 bobbing your head
in time with the steady rolling of traffic
in this small town-city.
Changing your idea of so called ‘good
music’ to a quieter phrase of the classics.
A Maynard fan in the works.
Points:
Time spent:
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Canary word: Present
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Original Text:
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141,475 Literary Works • 674,496 Reviews
Incandesance: Mhmm, I can see what you might be saying, thank you for the input.
Griffinkeeper & Patrick: ... were there any real reasons for these posts???
patrick, once more, refrain from those types of comments. Thank you.
GOOD GOOD GOOD GOOD GOOD GOOD
GOOD GOOD GOOD GOOD
GOOD GOOD
GOOD
GOOD
GOOD GOOD
GOOD GOOD GOOD GOOD
GOOD GOOD GOOD GOOD GOOD GOOD
Rated PG.
Tropicana--
This is incoherent and (from what I could discern) meaningless junk. It wanders from a cup of coffee to what's on the radio without any recourse for either of the concepts. Enjambment was terrible, as well--line breaks should be meaningful, not just where you please.
The overall effect is that the reader has been duped into following this through and puzzling it out to a meager conclusion that connects nothing.
Work globally, not locally.
Best,
Brad