I try not start shit, but I feel I've bitten my tongue long enough. I've swallowed so much blood I'm turning vampiric. Any more biting, and I'll have no tongue left to bite.
I'd like to call out a man I believe is quite possibly the most overrated writer whose work currently infests our fair interweb.
David Erlewine breeds micros like cockroaches breed their squirming spawn. Let's crack a can of RAID folks, because Erlewine belongs bellyup and squirming. His writing is soft and willowy like challah left in a trunk. To paraphrase the great JA Tyler -- where's the aggression?
His writing is all about himself, but even his friends hate him. He says his favorite book is Tim O'Briens "The Things They Carried." Well how about how Erlewine's friends are carrying him? Barry Graham's back is breaking. Save Barry! Drop Erlewine. Drop him like a hot potato, like plummeting stocks. Bury him.
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I buried him, but something keeps popping up. i guess it's Spring. Tim, ignore this bastards, and scatter your seed. Your bulbs are bursting with life.
Who is this brazen fool who speaketh with forked tongue? God Save Ereline from the encroachment of the festering roaches who multiply like email addresses! Ereline is a Braveheart in this interweb kingdom of delusional Tudors.
Hi Hemmings.
...better to be a delusional Tudor than a soggy loaf.
re: soggy loaf. My delusional Tudor friend does not have a soggy loaf. How do I know? I just do, okay? keep your venom to yourself, Yelpington.
Spark a writer? You couldn't even spark a conversation, troglodyte!
Thanks for reading my work, Tom! I'm working on a new poem so have to get back to it. It's called "Ticks" - Tom hod'm!" It's, I supposed, similar to the fleas one but I had a friend named Adam so I don't like that one. In any event, I appreciate all my readers. I read your work in Six Sentences. Why wasn't that titled? I'm confused. Best, David
Dear Tom,
I read your work in Tits. I love your muscular, Hopkinsian prose.
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