Lots of stickies in here now

[Byron In Exile]

It's different.

 

[pelegrino]

It's different.

You could hardly expect it to be the same.
The stickier, the merrier!

 

[butters]

step lightly
and you don't get sucked
down in the mud or
stuck like flies to a strip
do your thang, maximus
and don't neglect the lisp-trap trip

 

[Angeline]

It's different.

And yet it's the same.



I would to heaven that I were so much clay,
As I am blood, bone, marrow, passion, feeling -
Because at least the past were passed away -
And for the future - (but I write this reeling,
Having got drunk exceedingly today,
So that I seem to stand upon the ceiling)
I say - the future is a serious matter -
And so - for God's sake - hock and soda water!

 

[bronzeage]

Every poet has the soul of a tarbaby.