#1
In blue electronic slips we
turned and found a direction
to lead to more sour morning-breaths
and waspish warm winters,
but it's such a fluid and luscious
apocalypse. A tired old
bag of tricks that no one can
quite master abstinence from.

I'd refine, bear and bring it all to
texture if I could mass the muscle.
Then it's a backseat ticket stream
to the next petulant face-of-fortune.
Now it just comes out occasionally
through ventriloquism and little poems
like bugbears and razors, if you read them Gold.
#2
I'm unsure why this has gone unnoticed? It flows very well, you've got some good imagery and basically ticks all the boxes to make a solid piece.

I'd say what you're lacking in is proper substance. You seem to be hovering close to something good, but for now you're just laying down a style.

I'll keep an eye out for future work, keep it up man
You take my place in the showdown, I observe with a pitiful eye. I'll humbly ask you forgiveness, a request well beyond you and I.
#4
It wasn't really a crit, but thats OK. What I meant was that to me you seem to be lacking a clear meaning here, but you've got the style down well.

But I could be wrong, our minds work differently and the case may be that I might not be "getting it".
You take my place in the showdown, I observe with a pitiful eye. I'll humbly ask you forgiveness, a request well beyond you and I.