Poetic Mad Libs

I haven't been posting here the past two days because I've been otherwise occupied in a discussion on a mailing list -- a discussion that stemmed from the "woman" posts I made on this blog last week.

Here's the synopsis of my posts on the list -- fill in the blanks with what you think I said or if you already know what I wrote, come up with something better:

I didn't realize your poems and my ____ had so much in common. They both ____!

I WAS Ken ____. Then my ____ fell off.

Today's helpful tip: Chicks don't want you telling them they have a big ____.

I enjoy being a ____.

I refrain because I don't want to down in history as the Poet ____.
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Nancy Milford, the biographer of Edna St. Vincent Millay and Zelda Fitzgerald, once said in a lecture at Bennington (I'm paraphrasing), "Every great woman poet has been at least one of the following three things: Single, Childless or Crazy"

So I guess I only have one shot at greatness.

Cover your crotches!
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I'm just fucking with you. Who wants to be great? I'm in it for all the hot poet tail.

Mediocre poets live longer too.