"Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
Face and pyjama bottoms down
As for my father's belt I'd wait."

G. Dance

copy posted as written.

On Monday, April 17, 2023 at 1:17:07 PM UTC-4, Edward Rochester Esq.. wrote:
> "Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> Face and pyjama bottoms down
> As for my father's belt I'd wait."
>
> G. Dance
>
> copy posted as written.

Not really, Chimp: you forgot the rest of the poem:
https://groups.google.com/g/alt.arts.poetry.comments/c/BOw0oFBttnE/m/E-2_y3a1AAAJ?hl=en

On Monday, 17 April 2023 at 14:59:30 UTC-4, George Dance wrote:
> On Monday, April 17, 2023 at 1:17:07 PM UTC-4, Edward Rochester Esq. wrote:
> > "Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> > Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> > Face and pyjama bottoms down
> > As for my father's belt I'd wait."
> >
> > G. Dance
> >
> > copy posted as written.
> Not really, Chimp: you forgot the rest of the poem:
> https://groups.google.com/g/alt.arts.poetry.comments/c/BOw0oFBttnE/m/E-2_y3a1AAAJ?hl=en

No, he didn’t.

ME wrote:

> On Monday, 17 April 2023 at 14:59:30 UTC-4, George Dance wrote:
>> On Monday, April 17, 2023 at 1:17:07 PM UTC-4, Edward Rochester Esq. wrote:
>

<snip>

>> > copy posted as written.
>
>> Not really, Chimp: you forgot the rest of the poem:
>> https://groups.google.com/g/alt.arts.poetry.comments/c/BOw0oFBttnE/m/E-2_y3a1AAAJ?hl=en

> No, he didn’t.

Actually, he did:

***

https://groups.google.com/g/alt.arts.poetry.comments/c/BOw0oFBttnE/m/XCKh9TCGBAAJ

My Father's House

This is my father's house, although
The man died thirteen years ago.
They said it would be quite all right
To take a drive to see it now.

Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
And built the whole thing (from a box),
Toiling after each full day's work.
I helped, though I was only six.

Look, here's the back door I would use
And here's where I'd remove my shoes
To enter; there I'd leave my things
And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.

In this room I'd wash many a dish,
Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
To be so many other places.
(Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)

Outside, the garden that he grew
Where I would work the summers through,
While watching my friends run and play
Mysterious games I never knew.

That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
The one chair I was let to sit?
(For boys can be such filthy things.)
Which, the corner where boys were put?

Oh ... down that hall there is a room
Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
After the meal, to make no noise,
To read or play alone, and then

Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
Face and pyjama bottoms down
As for my father's belt I'd wait.

Oh, if I were a millionaire
I'd buy my father's house, and there
I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
Its flames would light up all the air.

~~
George J. Dance
from Logos and other logoi, 2021

***

HTH and HAND.

On Monday, 17 April 2023 at 16:41:02 UTC-4, W-Dockery wrote:
> ME wrote:
>
> > On Monday, 17 April 2023 at 14:59:30 UTC-4, George Dance wrote:
> >> On Monday, April 17, 2023 at 1:17:07 PM UTC-4, Edward Rochester Esq. wrote:
> >
> <snip>
> >> > copy posted as written.
> >
> >> Not really, Chimp: you forgot the rest of the poem:
> >> https://groups.google.com/g/alt.arts.poetry.comments/c/BOw0oFBttnE/m/E-2_y3a1AAAJ?hl=en
>
>
>
> > No, he didn’t.
> Actually, he did:
>
> ***
>
>
> https://groups.google.com/g/alt.arts.poetry.comments/c/BOw0oFBttnE/m/XCKh9TCGBAAJ
>
> My Father's House
>
> This is my father's house, although
> The man died thirteen years ago.
> They said it would be quite all right
> To take a drive to see it now.
>
> Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
> And built the whole thing (from a box),
> Toiling after each full day's work.
> I helped, though I was only six.
>
> Look, here's the back door I would use
> And here's where I'd remove my shoes
> To enter; there I'd leave my things
> And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
>
> In this room I'd wash many a dish,
> Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
> To be so many other places.
> (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
>
> Outside, the garden that he grew
> Where I would work the summers through,
> While watching my friends run and play
> Mysterious games I never knew.
>
> That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
> The one chair I was let to sit?
> (For boys can be such filthy things.)
> Which, the corner where boys were put?
>
> Oh ... down that hall there is a room
> Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
> After the meal, to make no noise,
> To read or play alone, and then
> Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> Face and pyjama bottoms down
> As for my father's belt I'd wait.
> Oh, if I were a millionaire
> I'd buy my father's house, and there
> I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
> Its flames would light up all the air.
>
> ~~
> George J. Dance
> from Logos and other logoi, 2021
>
> ***
>

No, he didn’t forget to mention it, brillo head. He intentionally didn’t mention it.
Kinda like your snip posts.
Got it now?!!

On Monday, April 17, 2023 at 4:49:51 PM UTC-4, ME wrote:
> On Monday, 17 April 2023 at 16:41:02 UTC-4, W-Dockery wrote:
> > ME wrote:
> > > On Monday, 17 April 2023 at 14:59:30 UTC-4, George Dance wrote:
>
> > https://groups.google.com/g/alt.arts.poetry.comments/c/BOw0oFBttnE/m/XCKh9TCGBAAJ
> >
> > My Father's House
> >
> > This is my father's house, although
> > The man died thirteen years ago.
> > They said it would be quite all right
> > To take a drive to see it now.
> >
> > Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
> > And built the whole thing (from a box),
> > Toiling after each full day's work.
> > I helped, though I was only six.
> >
> > Look, here's the back door I would use
> > And here's where I'd remove my shoes
> > To enter; there I'd leave my things
> > And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
> >
> > In this room I'd wash many a dish,
> > Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
> > To be so many other places.
> > (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
> >
> > Outside, the garden that he grew
> > Where I would work the summers through,
> > While watching my friends run and play
> > Mysterious games I never knew.
> >
> > That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
> > The one chair I was let to sit?
> > (For boys can be such filthy things.)
> > Which, the corner where boys were put?
> >
> > Oh ... down that hall there is a room
> > Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
> > After the meal, to make no noise,
> > To read or play alone, and then
> > Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> > Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> > Face and pyjama bottoms down
> > As for my father's belt I'd wait.
> > Oh, if I were a millionaire
> > I'd buy my father's house, and there
> > I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
> > Its flames would light up all the air.
> >
> > ~~
> > George J. Dance
> > from Logos and other logoi, 2021
> >
> > ***
> >
> No, he didn’t forget

Now that I've set the record straight, yes, glad to clear up your confusion..

HTH and HAND.

On Monday, 17 April 2023 at 16:52:23 UTC-4, Will Dockery wrote:
> On Monday, April 17, 2023 at 4:49:51 PM UTC-4, ME wrote:
> > On Monday, 17 April 2023 at 16:41:02 UTC-4, W-Dockery wrote:
> > > ME wrote:
> > > > On Monday, 17 April 2023 at 14:59:30 UTC-4, George Dance wrote:
> >
> > > https://groups.google.com/g/alt.arts.poetry.comments/c/BOw0oFBttnE/m/XCKh9TCGBAAJ
> > >
> > > My Father's House
> > >
> > > This is my father's house, although
> > > The man died thirteen years ago.
> > > They said it would be quite all right
> > > To take a drive to see it now.
> > >
> > > Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
> > > And built the whole thing (from a box),
> > > Toiling after each full day's work.
> > > I helped, though I was only six.
> > >
> > > Look, here's the back door I would use
> > > And here's where I'd remove my shoes
> > > To enter; there I'd leave my things
> > > And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
> > >
> > > In this room I'd wash many a dish,
> > > Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
> > > To be so many other places.
> > > (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
> > >
> > > Outside, the garden that he grew
> > > Where I would work the summers through,
> > > While watching my friends run and play
> > > Mysterious games I never knew.
> > >
> > > That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
> > > The one chair I was let to sit?
> > > (For boys can be such filthy things.)
> > > Which, the corner where boys were put?
> > >
> > > Oh ... down that hall there is a room
> > > Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
> > > After the meal, to make no noise,
> > > To read or play alone, and then
> > > Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> > > Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> > > Face and pyjama bottoms down
> > > As for my father's belt I'd wait.
> > > Oh, if I were a millionaire
> > > I'd buy my father's house, and there
> > > I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
> > > Its flames would light up all the air.
> > >
> > > ~~
> > > George J. Dance
> > > from Logos and other logoi, 2021
> > >
> > > ***
> > >
> > No, he didn’t forget
> Now that I've set the record straight, yes, glad to clear up your confusion.
>
>

You ignorant blowhard.
That tiredass line doesn’t work on aapc anymore.
Either come up with something new to say or shut the fuck up.
Damn, you’re so stupid.

On Monday, April 17, 2023 at 4:58:55 PM UTC-4, ME wrote:
> On Monday, 17 April 2023 at 16:52:23 UTC-4, Will Dockery wrote:
> > On Monday, April 17, 2023 at 4:49:51 PM UTC-4, ME wrote:
> > > On Monday, 17 April 2023 at 16:41:02 UTC-4, W-Dockery wrote:
> > > > ME wrote:
> > > > > On Monday, 17 April 2023 at 14:59:30 UTC-4, George Dance wrote:
> > >
> > > > https://groups.google.com/g/alt.arts.poetry.comments/c/BOw0oFBttnE/m/XCKh9TCGBAAJ
> > > >
> > > > My Father's House
> > > >
> > > > This is my father's house, although
> > > > The man died thirteen years ago.
> > > > They said it would be quite all right
> > > > To take a drive to see it now.
> > > >
> > > > Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
> > > > And built the whole thing (from a box),
> > > > Toiling after each full day's work.
> > > > I helped, though I was only six.
> > > >
> > > > Look, here's the back door I would use
> > > > And here's where I'd remove my shoes
> > > > To enter; there I'd leave my things
> > > > And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
> > > >
> > > > In this room I'd wash many a dish,
> > > > Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
> > > > To be so many other places.
> > > > (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
> > > >
> > > > Outside, the garden that he grew
> > > > Where I would work the summers through,
> > > > While watching my friends run and play
> > > > Mysterious games I never knew.
> > > >
> > > > That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
> > > > The one chair I was let to sit?
> > > > (For boys can be such filthy things.)
> > > > Which, the corner where boys were put?
> > > >
> > > > Oh ... down that hall there is a room
> > > > Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
> > > > After the meal, to make no noise,
> > > > To read or play alone, and then
> > > > Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> > > > Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> > > > Face and pyjama bottoms down
> > > > As for my father's belt I'd wait.
> > > > Oh, if I were a millionaire
> > > > I'd buy my father's house, and there
> > > > I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
> > > > Its flames would light up all the air.
> > > >
> > > > ~~
> > > > George J. Dance
> > > > from Logos and other logoi, 2021
> > > >
> > > > ***
> > > >
> > > No, he didn’t forget
> > Now that I've set the record straight, yes, glad to clear up your confusion.
> >
> >
> You ignorant xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Look who's talking.

----
"Truth be told, I really don’t like poetry that much." -"Me"

https://groups.google.com/d/msg/alt.arts.poetry.comments/MCQ8uk0Il10/aoJ1qmfWCAAJ

----

:)

On Monday, April 17, 2023 at 4:49:51 PM UTC-4, ME wrote:
> On Monday, 17 April 2023 at 16:41:02 UTC-4, W-Dockery wrote:
> > ME wrote:
> >
> > > On Monday, 17 April 2023 at 14:59:30 UTC-4, George Dance wrote:
> > >> On Monday, April 17, 2023 at 1:17:07 PM UTC-4, Edward Rochester Esq. wrote:
> > >
> > <snip>
> > >> > copy posted as written.
> > >
> > >> Not really, Chimp: you forgot the rest of the poem:
> > >> https://groups.google.com/g/alt.arts.poetry.comments/c/BOw0oFBttnE/m/E-2_y3a1AAAJ?hl=en
> >
> >
> >
> > > No, he didn’t.
> > Actually, he did:
> >
> > ***
> >
> >
> > https://groups.google.com/g/alt.arts.poetry.comments/c/BOw0oFBttnE/m/XCKh9TCGBAAJ
> >
> > My Father's House
> >
> > This is my father's house, although
> > The man died thirteen years ago.
> > They said it would be quite all right
> > To take a drive to see it now.
> >
> > Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
> > And built the whole thing (from a box),
> > Toiling after each full day's work.
> > I helped, though I was only six.
> >
> > Look, here's the back door I would use
> > And here's where I'd remove my shoes
> > To enter; there I'd leave my things
> > And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
> >
> > In this room I'd wash many a dish,
> > Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
> > To be so many other places.
> > (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
> >
> > Outside, the garden that he grew
> > Where I would work the summers through,
> > While watching my friends run and play
> > Mysterious games I never knew.
> >
> > That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
> > The one chair I was let to sit?
> > (For boys can be such filthy things.)
> > Which, the corner where boys were put?
> >
> > Oh ... down that hall there is a room
> > Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
> > After the meal, to make no noise,
> > To read or play alone, and then
> > Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> > Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> > Face and pyjama bottoms down
> > As for my father's belt I'd wait.
> > Oh, if I were a millionaire
> > I'd buy my father's house, and there
> > I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
> > Its flames would light up all the air.
> >
> > ~~
> > George J. Dance
> > from Logos and other logoi, 2021
> >
> > ***
> >
> No, he didn’t forget to mention it, brillo head. He intentionally didn’t mention it.
> Kinda like your snip posts.
> Got it now?!!

No, he doesn't. You speak the hopelessly unnuanced, pathetically anti-semantic...
And despite his intentional use of snipping, he truly knows not what he does...

On Monday, April 17, 2023 at 5:19:39 PM UTC-4, Ash Wurthing wrote:
> > > > On Monday, 17 April 2023 at 14:59:30 UTC-4, George Dance wrote:
>
> > > https://groups.google.com/g/alt.arts.poetry.comments/c/BOw0oFBttnE/m/XCKh9TCGBAAJ
> > >
> > > My Father's House
> > >
> > > This is my father's house, although
> > > The man died thirteen years ago.
> > > They said it would be quite all right
> > > To take a drive to see it now.
> > >
> > > Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
> > > And built the whole thing (from a box),
> > > Toiling after each full day's work.
> > > I helped, though I was only six.
> > >
> > > Look, here's the back door I would use
> > > And here's where I'd remove my shoes
> > > To enter; there I'd leave my things
> > > And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
> > >
> > > In this room I'd wash many a dish,
> > > Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
> > > To be so many other places.
> > > (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
> > >
> > > Outside, the garden that he grew
> > > Where I would work the summers through,
> > > While watching my friends run and play
> > > Mysterious games I never knew.
> > >
> > > That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
> > > The one chair I was let to sit?
> > > (For boys can be such filthy things.)
> > > Which, the corner where boys were put?
> > >
> > > Oh ... down that hall there is a room
> > > Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
> > > After the meal, to make no noise,
> > > To read or play alone, and then
> > > Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> > > Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> > > Face and pyjama bottoms down
> > > As for my father's belt I'd wait.
> > > Oh, if I were a millionaire
> > > I'd buy my father's house, and there
> > > I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
> > > Its flames would light up all the air.
> > >
> > > ~~
> > > George J. Dance
> > > from Logos and other logoi, 2021
> > >
> > > ***
>
> No, he doesn't

I'm not the one who was confused, Ash.

Try to keep up.

:)

On Monday, April 17, 2023 at 4:41:02 PM UTC-4, W-Dockery wrote:
> ME wrote:
>
> > On Monday, 17 April 2023 at 14:59:30 UTC-4, George Dance wrote:
> >> On Monday, April 17, 2023 at 1:17:07 PM UTC-4, Edward Rochester Esq. wrote:
> >
> <snip>
> >> > copy posted as written.
> >
> >> Not really, Chimp: you forgot the rest of the poem:
> >> https://groups.google.com/g/alt.arts.poetry.comments/c/BOw0oFBttnE/m/E-2_y3a1AAAJ?hl=en
>
>
>
> > No, he didn’t.
> Actually, he did:
>
> ***
>
>
> https://groups.google.com/g/alt.arts.poetry.comments/c/BOw0oFBttnE/m/XCKh9TCGBAAJ
>
> My Father's House
>
> This is my father's house, although
> The man died thirteen years ago.
> They said it would be quite all right
> To take a drive to see it now.
>
> Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
> And built the whole thing (from a box),
> Toiling after each full day's work.
> I helped, though I was only six.
>
> Look, here's the back door I would use
> And here's where I'd remove my shoes
> To enter; there I'd leave my things
> And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
>
> In this room I'd wash many a dish,
> Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
> To be so many other places.
> (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
>
> Outside, the garden that he grew
> Where I would work the summers through,
> While watching my friends run and play
> Mysterious games I never knew.
>
> That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
> The one chair I was let to sit?
> (For boys can be such filthy things.)
> Which, the corner where boys were put?
>
> Oh ... down that hall there is a room
> Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
> After the meal, to make no noise,
> To read or play alone, and then
> Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> Face and pyjama bottoms down
> As for my father's belt I'd wait.
> Oh, if I were a millionaire
> I'd buy my father's house, and there
> I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
> Its flames would light up all the air.
>
> ~~
> George J. Dance
> from Logos and other logoi, 2021
>
> ***
>
> HTH and HAND.

On Monday, April 17, 2023 at 5:30:38 PM UTC-4, George Dance wrote:
> On Monday, April 17, 2023 at 4:41:02 PM UTC-4, Will Dockery wrote:
>
> > https://groups.google.com/g/alt.arts.poetry.comments/c/BOw0oFBttnE/m/XCKh9TCGBAAJ
> >
> > My Father's House
> >
> > This is my father's house, although
> > The man died thirteen years ago.
> > They said it would be quite all right
> > To take a drive to see it now.
> >
> > Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
> > And built the whole thing (from a box),
> > Toiling after each full day's work.
> > I helped, though I was only six.
> >
> > Look, here's the back door I would use
> > And here's where I'd remove my shoes
> > To enter; there I'd leave my things
> > And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
> >
> > In this room I'd wash many a dish,
> > Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
> > To be so many other places.
> > (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
> >
> > Outside, the garden that he grew
> > Where I would work the summers through,
> > While watching my friends run and play
> > Mysterious games I never knew.
> >
> > That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
> > The one chair I was let to sit?
> > (For boys can be such filthy things.)
> > Which, the corner where boys were put?
> >
> > Oh ... down that hall there is a room
> > Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
> > After the meal, to make no noise,
> > To read or play alone, and then
> > Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> > Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> > Face and pyjama bottoms down
> > As for my father's belt I'd wait.
> > Oh, if I were a millionaire
> > I'd buy my father's house, and there
> > I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
> > Its flames would light up all the air.
> >
> > ~~
> > George J. Dance
> > from Logos and other logoi, 2021
> >
> > ***

:)

On Monday, 17 April 2023 at 17:30:38 UTC-4, George Dance wrote:
> On Monday, April 17, 2023 at 4:41:02 PM UTC-4, W-Dockery wrote:
> > ME wrote:
> >
> > > On Monday, 17 April 2023 at 14:59:30 UTC-4, George Dance wrote:
> > >> On Monday, April 17, 2023 at 1:17:07 PM UTC-4, Edward Rochester Esq. wrote:
> > >
> > <snip>
> > >> > copy posted as written.
> > >
> > >> Not really, Chimp: you forgot the rest of the poem:
> > >> https://groups.google.com/g/alt.arts.poetry.comments/c/BOw0oFBttnE/m/E-2_y3a1AAAJ?hl=en
> >
> >
> >
> > > No, he didn’t.
> > Actually, he did:
> >
> > ***
> >
> >
> > https://groups.google.com/g/alt.arts.poetry.comments/c/BOw0oFBttnE/m/XCKh9TCGBAAJ
> >
> > My Father's House
> >
> > This is my father's house, although
> > The man died thirteen years ago.
> > They said it would be quite all right
> > To take a drive to see it now.
> >
> > Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
> > And built the whole thing (from a box),
> > Toiling after each full day's work.
> > I helped, though I was only six.
> >
> > Look, here's the back door I would use
> > And here's where I'd remove my shoes
> > To enter; there I'd leave my things
> > And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
> >
> > In this room I'd wash many a dish,
> > Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
> > To be so many other places.
> > (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
> >
> > Outside, the garden that he grew
> > Where I would work the summers through,
> > While watching my friends run and play
> > Mysterious games I never knew.
> >
> > That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
> > The one chair I was let to sit?
> > (For boys can be such filthy things.)
> > Which, the corner where boys were put?
> >
> > Oh ... down that hall there is a room
> > Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
> > After the meal, to make no noise,
> > To read or play alone, and then
> > Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> > Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> > Face and pyjama bottoms down
> > As for my father's belt I'd wait.
> > Oh, if I were a millionaire
> > I'd buy my father's house, and there
> > I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
> > Its flames would light up all the air.
> >
> > ~~
> > George J. Dance
> > from Logos and other logoi, 2021
> >
> > ***
> >
> > HTH and HAND.

BULLSHIT , dance

On Monday, 17 April 2023 at 17:32:07 UTC-4, Will Dockery wrote:
> On Monday, April 17, 2023 at 5:30:38 PM UTC-4, George Dance wrote:
> > On Monday, April 17, 2023 at 4:41:02 PM UTC-4, Will Dockery wrote:
> >
> > > https://groups.google.com/g/alt.arts.poetry.comments/c/BOw0oFBttnE/m/XCKh9TCGBAAJ
> > >
> > > My Father's House
> > >
> > > This is my father's house, although
> > > The man died thirteen years ago.
> > > They said it would be quite all right
> > > To take a drive to see it now.
> > >
> > > Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
> > > And built the whole thing (from a box),
> > > Toiling after each full day's work.
> > > I helped, though I was only six.
> > >
> > > Look, here's the back door I would use
> > > And here's where I'd remove my shoes
> > > To enter; there I'd leave my things
> > > And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
> > >
> > > In this room I'd wash many a dish,
> > > Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
> > > To be so many other places.
> > > (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
> > >
> > > Outside, the garden that he grew
> > > Where I would work the summers through,
> > > While watching my friends run and play
> > > Mysterious games I never knew.
> > >
> > > That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
> > > The one chair I was let to sit?
> > > (For boys can be such filthy things.)
> > > Which, the corner where boys were put?
> > >
> > > Oh ... down that hall there is a room
> > > Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
> > > After the meal, to make no noise,
> > > To read or play alone, and then
> > > Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> > > Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> > > Face and pyjama bottoms down
> > > As for my father's belt I'd wait.
> > > Oh, if I were a millionaire
> > > I'd buy my father's house, and there
> > > I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
> > > Its flames would light up all the air.
> > >
> > > ~~
> > > George J. Dance
> > > from Logos and other logoi, 2021
> > >
> > > ***
> :)

BULLSHIT, will.

On Monday, April 17, 2023 at 5:05:52 PM UTC-4, Will Dockery wrote:
> Look who's talking.

I am and it's you that I see spamming, 24/7...
You say you're here for the poetry but all that anyone sees anymore is sWilly, of the "skip 'n ignore," fighting with everybody that he incessantly trolls...

Over there! The veteran behemoth of the Usenet-- blows! And oh boy, does he blow hard!
And over there fumes the foul mouthed bottom feeder Zod, for he lost the argument yet again and resorts to his trademarked with a motherfucker, childish name calling for he knows not a thing more.

I am Will Dockery, veteran of Usenet, self-grandest of review of poetry
Look upon my works and beware, take care not to be an ass like me!

A Will love poem to AAPC
Let me count all the ways I troll thee
Nay! For there's too many!

Now Willy get out of the muck that you're constantly face planting in, line back up all your rubber ducks and lets try this again. I've reloaded the double odd buck and have no qualms unloading on schmucks. And I'll be brusque about it for I don't give a fuck. Plus watching George, it looks he would approve of all this running amok.

And who wants to go to their graves with all this negative attention that they crave and their threads in flames? Whipping Fools do! I watch it every day, the same fray- and the dismay as intentions go astray and we inevitably decay while the doom of time looms over the disarray...

This is not the Columbus music scene stage, this is the World stage and you are no different than the rest of us-
a no one, unless they are elevated by others for what they offer to the others.

I have to say that Will is the confused one 'cause he has yet to guess the nature of the game...
now wait for it, Mr. Clueless (I'm off for a live performance)

On Monday, April 17, 2023 at 5:24:07 PM UTC-4, Will Dockery wrote:
> On Monday, April 17, 2023 at 5:19:39 PM UTC-4, Ash Wurthing wrote:
> > No, he doesn't
>
> I'm not the one who was confused, Ash.
>
> Try to keep up.
>
> :)

On Monday, April 17, 2023 at 6:16:56 PM UTC-4, ME wrote:
> On Monday, 17 April 2023 at 17:32:07 UTC-4, Will Dockery wrote:
> > On Monday, April 17, 2023 at 5:30:38 PM UTC-4, George Dance wrote:
>
> > > > https://groups.google.com/g/alt.arts.poetry.comments/c/BOw0oFBttnE/m/XCKh9TCGBAAJ
> > > >
> > > > My Father's House
> > > >
> > > > This is my father's house, although
> > > > The man died thirteen years ago.
> > > > They said it would be quite all right
> > > > To take a drive to see it now.
> > > >
> > > > Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
> > > > And built the whole thing (from a box),
> > > > Toiling after each full day's work.
> > > > I helped, though I was only six.
> > > >
> > > > Look, here's the back door I would use
> > > > And here's where I'd remove my shoes
> > > > To enter; there I'd leave my things
> > > > And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
> > > >
> > > > In this room I'd wash many a dish,
> > > > Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
> > > > To be so many other places.
> > > > (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
> > > >
> > > > Outside, the garden that he grew
> > > > Where I would work the summers through,
> > > > While watching my friends run and play
> > > > Mysterious games I never knew.
> > > >
> > > > That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
> > > > The one chair I was let to sit?
> > > > (For boys can be such filthy things.)
> > > > Which, the corner where boys were put?
> > > >
> > > > Oh ... down that hall there is a room
> > > > Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
> > > > After the meal, to make no noise,
> > > > To read or play alone, and then
> > > > Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> > > > Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> > > > Face and pyjama bottoms down
> > > > As for my father's belt I'd wait.
> > > > Oh, if I were a millionaire
> > > > I'd buy my father's house, and there
> > > > I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
> > > > Its flames would light up all the air.
> > > >
> > > > ~~
> > > > George J. Dance
> > > > from Logos and other logoi, 2021
> > > >
> > > > ***
>
> BULLSHIT, will.

That's probably your upper lip you smell again, ME.

:)

ME wrote:

> On Monday, 17 April 2023 at 17:30:38 UTC-4, George Dance wrote:
>> On Monday, April 17, 2023 at 4:41:02 PM UTC-4, W-Dockery wrote:
>> > ME wrote:
>> >
>> > > On Monday, 17 April 2023 at 14:59:30 UTC-4, George Dance wrote:
>> > >> On Monday, April 17, 2023 at 1:17:07 PM UTC-4, Edward Rochester Esq. wrote:
>> > >
>> > <snip>
>> > >> > copy posted as written.
>> > >
>> > >> Not really, Chimp: you forgot the rest of the poem:
>> > >> https://groups.google.com/g/alt.arts.poetry.comments/c/BOw0oFBttnE/m/E-2_y3a1AAAJ?hl=en
>> >
>> >
>> >
>> > > No, he didn’t.
>> > Actually, he did:
>> >
>> > ***
>> >
>> >
>> > https://groups.google.com/g/alt.arts.poetry.comments/c/BOw0oFBttnE/m/XCKh9TCGBAAJ
>> >
>> > My Father's House
>> >
>> > This is my father's house, although
>> > The man died thirteen years ago.
>> > They said it would be quite all right
>> > To take a drive to see it now.
>> >
>> > Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
>> > And built the whole thing (from a box),
>> > Toiling after each full day's work.
>> > I helped, though I was only six.
>> >
>> > Look, here's the back door I would use
>> > And here's where I'd remove my shoes
>> > To enter; there I'd leave my things
>> > And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
>> >
>> > In this room I'd wash many a dish,
>> > Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
>> > To be so many other places.
>> > (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
>> >
>> > Outside, the garden that he grew
>> > Where I would work the summers through,
>> > While watching my friends run and play
>> > Mysterious games I never knew.
>> >
>> > That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
>> > The one chair I was let to sit?
>> > (For boys can be such filthy things.)
>> > Which, the corner where boys were put?
>> >
>> > Oh ... down that hall there is a room
>> > Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
>> > After the meal, to make no noise,
>> > To read or play alone, and then
>> > Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
>> > Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
>> > Face and pyjama bottoms down
>> > As for my father's belt I'd wait.
>> > Oh, if I were a millionaire
>> > I'd buy my father's house, and there
>> > I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
>> > Its flames would light up all the air.
>> >
>> > ~~
>> > George J. Dance
>> > from Logos and other logoi, 2021
>> >
>> > ***
>> >
>> > HTH and HAND.

> BULLSHIT , dance

Not quite.

:)

On Monday, April 17, 2023 at 1:17:07 PM UTC-4, Edward Rochester Esq.. wrote:
> "Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> Face and pyjama bottoms down
> As for my father's belt I'd wait."
>
> G. Dance
>
> copy posted as written.

Pa tried to get his mind right, but ol' George just kept getting his dirt in everybody else's ditches.

On Monday, April 17, 2023 at 1:17:07 PM UTC-4, Edward Rochester Esq.. wrote:
> "Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> Face and pyjama bottoms down
> As for my father's belt I'd wait."
>
> G. Dance
>
> copy posted as written.

"You get two sheets. Every Saturday, you put the clean sheet on the top... the top sheet on the bottom... and the bottom sheet you turn in to the laundry boy. Any man turns in the wrong sheet spends a night in the box."
--'Cool Hand Luke'

The Captain's advice:
"What we've got here is... failure to communicate. Some men you just can't reach. So you get what we had here last week, which is the way he wants it.... well, he gets it. I don't like it any more than you men. "
--'Cool Hand Luke'

On Monday, April 17, 2023 at 6:44:58 PM UTC-4, Will Dockery wrote:
> On Monday, April 17, 2023 at 6:16:56 PM UTC-4, ME wrote:
> > On Monday, 17 April 2023 at 17:32:07 UTC-4, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > On Monday, April 17, 2023 at 5:30:38 PM UTC-4, George Dance wrote:
> >
> > > > > https://groups.google.com/g/alt.arts.poetry.comments/c/BOw0oFBttnE/m/XCKh9TCGBAAJ
> > > > >
> > > > > My Father's House
> > > > >
> > > > > This is my father's house, although
> > > > > The man died thirteen years ago.
> > > > > They said it would be quite all right
> > > > > To take a drive to see it now.
> > > > >
> > > > > Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
> > > > > And built the whole thing (from a box),
> > > > > Toiling after each full day's work.
> > > > > I helped, though I was only six.
> > > > >
> > > > > Look, here's the back door I would use
> > > > > And here's where I'd remove my shoes
> > > > > To enter; there I'd leave my things
> > > > > And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
> > > > >
> > > > > In this room I'd wash many a dish,
> > > > > Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
> > > > > To be so many other places.
> > > > > (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
> > > > >
> > > > > Outside, the garden that he grew
> > > > > Where I would work the summers through,
> > > > > While watching my friends run and play
> > > > > Mysterious games I never knew.
> > > > >
> > > > > That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
> > > > > The one chair I was let to sit?
> > > > > (For boys can be such filthy things.)
> > > > > Which, the corner where boys were put?
> > > > >
> > > > > Oh ... down that hall there is a room
> > > > > Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
> > > > > After the meal, to make no noise,
> > > > > To read or play alone, and then
> > > > > Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> > > > > Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> > > > > Face and pyjama bottoms down
> > > > > As for my father's belt I'd wait.
> > > > > Oh, if I were a millionaire
> > > > > I'd buy my father's house, and there
> > > > > I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
> > > > > Its flames would light up all the air.
> > > > >
> > > > > ~~
> > > > > George J. Dance
> > > > > from Logos and other logoi, 2021
> > > > >
> > > > > ***
> >
> > BULLSHIT, will.
>
> That's probably your upper lip you smell again, ME.

How would you know from where you got your head wedged?

And here I stand alone
on my soapbox of thrown stones
so wisely I try to intone
for the guilty to atone
misguided deeds with mindful creeds
for the blindfolded to heed
what I shout about so fervently
my uncouth, firebrand delivery
bold 'n brass with so much crass
I imagine myself another F Douglass
striving to wise up and persevere
over those plugging their ears
to hide from what they fear to hear
by having their heads up their rears
~~ASHES GREATEST POETRY FITS vol ii

get buryin' Losenet vet...

On Tuesday, April 18, 2023 at 5:03:12 PM UTC-4, Ash Wurthing wrote:
> On Monday, April 17, 2023 at 6:44:58 PM UTC-4, Will Dockery wrote:
> > On Monday, April 17, 2023 at 6:16:56 PM UTC-4, ME wrote:
> > > On Monday, 17 April 2023 at 17:32:07 UTC-4, George Dance wrote:
>
> > > > > > https://groups.google.com/g/alt.arts.poetry.comments/c/BOw0oFBttnE/m/XCKh9TCGBAAJ
> > > > > >
> > > > > > My Father's House
> > > > > >
> > > > > > This is my father's house, although
> > > > > > The man died thirteen years ago.
> > > > > > They said it would be quite all right
> > > > > > To take a drive to see it now.
> > > > > >
> > > > > > Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
> > > > > > And built the whole thing (from a box),
> > > > > > Toiling after each full day's work.
> > > > > > I helped, though I was only six.
> > > > > >
> > > > > > Look, here's the back door I would use
> > > > > > And here's where I'd remove my shoes
> > > > > > To enter; there I'd leave my things
> > > > > > And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
> > > > > >
> > > > > > In this room I'd wash many a dish,
> > > > > > Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
> > > > > > To be so many other places.
> > > > > > (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
> > > > > >
> > > > > > Outside, the garden that he grew
> > > > > > Where I would work the summers through,
> > > > > > While watching my friends run and play
> > > > > > Mysterious games I never knew.
> > > > > >
> > > > > > That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
> > > > > > The one chair I was let to sit?
> > > > > > (For boys can be such filthy things.)
> > > > > > Which, the corner where boys were put?
> > > > > >
> > > > > > Oh ... down that hall there is a room
> > > > > > Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
> > > > > > After the meal, to make no noise,
> > > > > > To read or play alone, and then
> > > > > > Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> > > > > > Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> > > > > > Face and pyjama bottoms down
> > > > > > As for my father's belt I'd wait.
> > > > > > Oh, if I were a millionaire
> > > > > > I'd buy my father's house, and there
> > > > > > I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
> > > > > > Its flames would light up all the air.
> > > > > >
> > > > > > ~~
> > > > > > George J. Dance
> > > > > > from Logos and other logoi, 2021
> > > > > >
> > > > > > ***
> > >
> > > BULLSHIT, will.
> >
> > That's probably your upper lip you smell again, ME.
> How would you know

Just a luck guess.

:)