Eeksy-Peeksy:

"I start at three machine-tanned bottle-blonded women who come together, peel to bright dresses, and perch under the lights along the bar. They get identical orange drinks, which they sip through thin straws and pretty good teeth. Outside, it's still December and we're on the old cold Baltic shore. Inside, cheap vacations are still available."

This is the sort of writing that grabs me. The same goes for the prose-poems on "texture notes." Yet I am indifferent to the poems of bloggers x, y, and z.