this is just to say
(original...the underlined words were what we had to change)
i have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox
and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast
forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold
william carlos williams

this is just to say
(variation...underlined words are those that were changed)
i have stumbled upon
the stone
that was in my kitchen.
and which
you were probably
setting as a trap
for that of myself
forgive me
they were too small to harm me
so next time i will make sure i break a toe
and so i conclude this. your foolish trick didnt work!
stephanie barrow

this is just to say
(variation...underlined words are those that were changed)
i have dinosaur cowboy boots
the man with the pet hamburger took the pair from the treasure chests
that were hidden
in his bath tub for a while now
and which
you were probably
going to wear to impress all your friends
well sucks for you cuz i have them now
forgive me
they were just my size loser so full of cranberries squishing in between my toes
and so get your own damn boots!
sergio cea

we had to answer questions. im going to write one of stephanie's answers cuz i laughed when i read it:
5. What kind of person is the speaker? How do you feel about him/her? Tell everything else you know about the speaker and the listener in the poem.
a kind but hungry fool. i feel, finders keeper. losers receive an apology note

another poem we got to change! you know what the underlining means by now...

"Love in Brooklyn" By John Wakeman

"i love you horrowitz," he said, and blew his nose.
she splashed her drink. "the hell you say, she said.
then, thinking hard, she lit a cigarette:
"not love. you don't love me. you like my legs, and how i make your letters nice and all
you drunk your drink too fast. you don't love me."
"you wanna bet?" he asked. "you wanna bet?
i loved you from the day they moved you up
from payroll, last july. i watched you, right?
you sat there on that typing chair you have
and swung round like a kid. it made me shake.
like once, in world war 2, i saw a tank
slide through some trees at dawn like it was god
that's how you make me feel. i don't know why."
she turned towards him, then sat back and grinned,
and on the bar stool swung full circle around.
"you think i'm like a tank, you mean?" she asked.
"some felleres tell me nicer things than that."
but then she saw his face and touched his arm
and softly said "i am only kidding you."
he ordered frinks, the same again, and paid.
a fat man, wordless, staring at the floor.
she took his hand in hers and pressed it hard.
and his plump fingers trembled in her lap.

"Love in Brooklyn" variation By Sergio Cea

"i love you horrowitz," he said, and made a balloon doggie.
she dived in her drink. "the devil is my father, she said.
then, remembering her lung cancer, she lit a cigarette:
"not love. you don't love me. you like my tapdancing instructor julio.
you lick donkies too much. you don't love me."
"you wanna bet?" he asked. "you wanna bet?
i loved you from the day they moved you up
from payroll, last july. i watched you, right?
you sat there on that typing chair you have
and rode it around the room chasing other co-workers. it made me scared that i'd get runover.
like once, in world war 2, i saw a tank
fly through some trees at me like it was going to kill me.
that's how you make me feel. i don't know why."
she turned towards him, then fell off the chair. and then she got back up,
and on the bar stool swung full circle around.
"you think i'm like a tank, you mean?" she asked.
"some pimps tell me nicer things than that."
but then she saw his face and touched his arm
and softly said "i am only kidding you."
he ordered frinks, the same again, and paid.
a blind man, sightless, trying to stare at the floor.
she took his hand in hers and cut it off to keep as a momento.
and his still moving fingers danced in her lap.

"Love in Brooklyn" variation By Stepahnie Barrow

"i love you horrowitz," he said, and punched her nose.
she smashed her drink. "why the hell did you punch me?, she said.
then, bleeding bad, she lit a cigarette:
"not love. you don't love me. you love my sister's mom's aunt's daughter's boyfriend.
you made out with him last week. you don't love me."
"you wanna bet?" he asked. "you wanna bet?
i loved you from the day they moved you up
from payroll, last july. i watched you, right?
you sat there on that typing chair you have
and jumped off of it into the pool. it made me laugh.
like once, in world war 2, i saw a tank
float through some trees at midnight like it was sergio
that's how you make me feel. i don't know why."
she turned towards him, then threw her shoe at him,
and on the bar stool swung full circle around.
"you think i'm like a tank, you mean?" she asked.
"some losers tell me nicer things than that."
but then she saw his face and touched his arm
and softly said "i am only kidding you."
he ordered frinks, the same again, and paid.
an ugly man, original, and hairy lie on the floor.
she took his hand in hers and pinched it hard.
and his hand began to bleed. fingers died in her lap.

"fat men get no loving" i said this as a response to something the sub asked about the last part of the poem. oh well thats all the poetry i can stomach for now folks...

Asshole Jesus' Universe