Persistent exertion of body or mind, Drew which is it the mind or the body that puts you in an upper class position way above and beyond the rest. Without a single poem for the rest to read and put to the test, rules are rules. If you aren’t going to play nice and share your shear genius how dare thee critique in such fashion of bashing and sliding your nubs that you call fingers across the keyboards of your choosing whether it be any computerized word document or written prose with empty ink well pen slid across onion sheeted papers.

Allow me to count the ways of your mind being splattered tattered all over Kingdom Come’s pearly white walls, leaving blood puddle splotches in intricate places. Only to spell out words of distraught behavioral patterns and rambunctious ditty flopping. Twisting up words, spitting out tantalizing paraphrases, spewing out last night’s junkets…without even placing your mind in another’s shoes, how dare thee call themselves a poet. Respect dies short of another ******* in the wind, farting midnight anthems of disrespectful ploys.  

Now we come to your body, hmm…what toys are there to play along with, when the heart doesn’t exist in open minded doorways leading to your defeat? Believe me when I say I will hunt you down, with homing devices ******* into place of ever living crevice of your rotting carcass left out in the sun to roast like last week’s luau piggy. Taking walnut crushers to every fingered bone in your body, this little piggy went CRUNCH! This little piggy ran into a CRUNCH! This little piggy went to market square to his surprise he also went CRUNCH!  

Now listen up you twisted little sick **** with a toothpick of an idea of getting your rocks and socks off at turning the world upside down and showing what a wonderful bugle boy you are. Bow down and beg for mercy, because you are now my ******* up storm racer as I place my 8 ton sledge hammer down on your cranium, Lightning may strike…but the force will not be reckoned with my dolled up misdirected **** of misfortune.