This Poem was Submitted By: Mark Andrew Hislop On Date: 2007-02-27 19:00:23 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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It looks like a potato

It looks like a potato and is hard to distinguish from other potatoes. The easy way's to tell you straight out: this potato is floury in a way no other potato is. But I'll leave it up to you and you might swallow, or spit.

Copyright © February 2007 Mark Andrew Hislop

This Poem was Critiqued By: Rachel F. Spinoza On Date: 2007-03-07 17:29:03
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
if it looks like a potato and it walks and talks like a potato it must be Cheney.

This Poem was Critiqued By: James C. Horak On Date: 2007-03-07 11:26:06
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Not much to say about this one, oh candid-appreciating one, so I'll just address one of your vastly better poems (I so mistakingly hit the skip button on.) This is a critique on "A friendship book". Aside from "a midnight chlorophyll for sun" in the first line, this is a spectacular poem, Mark. The desparation of coming to some point in life where we lose sight of the great truth, You Can't Go Home Again, to trade in the past...thereby inviting the attendant debacle of reliving its stream, well justifies the stark tone of this poem. And it is stark. Beginning with such images as, "children, squeezed out by the great cramp of years" to the finality of, "as if words were mere ways to lie" and, "for lovers, friendship were some disease." Your luck truth is a defense against libel. You realize how many institutions you just fell? "as if convection would not work/with cold", the unifying line. This places the poem elegantly apart what it might otherwise have become, lost in time to just another relenting of bad experience. For it thus becomes more than a mere brush with life but a full view. You are refining...well except for the potato thing. Send that to your friend Michael Dean. He'll think you are remorseful. JCH
This Poem was Critiqued By: Dellena Rovito On Date: 2007-03-04 17:30:18
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.92857
Mark, If it looks like a potatoe, is called 'potatoe',cooks like a potatoe, taste like a potatoe........... IT IS A POTATOE! And if you dislike the taste you don't accept it. As we do with most everything! Yes, d
This Poem was Critiqued By: Tony P Spicuglia On Date: 2007-03-04 15:26:55
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.83333
Mark, I understand the floury and/or waxy potatoes. I know how to cook each, and indeed, your insinuation is true that they look (for the most part) very similar. The we get to the obvious "swallow, or spit" reference that is posed to immediately redraw your poem in aspects of oral sex. Now, I cannot say I find the potato reference clear on this issue. I can imagine possibilities; but I cannot be sure of meaning. How I would like maybe one more obscure clue to ensure the vision is clear for those who will seek it. "Straight out" can be used to provide such- which leads to "floury in a way". Then again, many types of potatoes are considered "floury". Then the "no other potato is"; throws out all analogies. This is an interesting piece that leaves me wanting a dish of Shepard’s pie. Interesting, almost to a fault I think!! Maybe I just read too much into it.
This Poem was Critiqued By: Claire H. Currier On Date: 2007-03-01 18:04:53
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.76190
Perhaps you might find this potato at Christmas time hidden under the name poutine(?) Not sure but you seem to have described that grease ball that I would not, could not, swallow..........interesting the way you put it though. They pay good money to get their hands on them too..........I'm sure I am not right in my thoughts but it certainly was descriptive enough and being tied in a casing is what makes this potato look like a potato of different style. Thanks, looking forward to your reply. God Bless, Claire Uncle Leo was to have made the best poutine's going........hehehe....
This Poem was Critiqued By: DeniMari Z. On Date: 2007-02-28 22:27:46
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.88889
Dear Mark, I was confuzzled, before I read this, now I'm not sure what I am. What in the world is a floury potato? Only pasta comes to my mind, gnocchi, made with flour and potatoes shaped in round little balls, then boiled and eaten with sauce on them. Hmmm, I'm still thinking, give me a moment because I don't know if I should swallow, spit, barf, or sit. What's going on? Are you ok? (Did the stocks falling upset you) Please let me know what I couldn't figure out for myself. thanks, as always, Denimari
This Poem was Critiqued By: Mark Steven Scheffer On Date: 2007-02-28 00:52:08
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.50000
MAH, I like this better than the duck test. Especially because it gives the "duck" some say in the verdict. Do you Aussies know of the American duck test? I'm falling into this bad habit again. The carriage turned into a pumpkin an hour ago. I think I've hit upon an apt analogy. Goonight, mate. MSS
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