REVIEW TIME! LOTS OF REVIEWS!

Time to catch myself up on some reviews. Ready for a reviewtastic revision of revitistical reprecussions?
Then read on. This one goes out to the incredibly beautiful Dawn.

A Trained Man's Discovery
By: Dawn Siddons

8:45 a.m. I'm blue printing an ensemble,
preparing to match my genetic offspring,
flattering my wife—Debora; a genus
in the rose family, I eye the pear
shape of her body, region throughout the world
and surrender to casualties.
Today my family will be frozen,
made into preserves as well as dried
and used in such things as memorabilia.
With strawberry whitened teeth,
we'll fold perfection like the bath linen
expected after laundry day, that washed
away the previous night of beer, football,
and unpleasant smells, compared to skunk
spray or sewage.
Us men husked like Durian, kinged forbidden
the whole experience, partied until
my allotted funds ran out at 11:13 p.m.
I returned home as told, and my wife
she smiled with no effort satisfaction.
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What I liked: I really did like the overall tone of the piece--the repeated use of the fruits, especially "Strawberry whitened teeth" was nice. I loved the use of whitened next to linen even though they weren't tied together, but instead worked off of each other nicely.

Improvements: What do you mean when you say your family will be frozen and made into preserves? I like that it goes on with the whole fruit thing, but I don't know why you would say that. And I don't know why you go on to surrender to casualties. That sounds like people will die. I don't know what the phrase "no effort satisfaction" means. I am a little bit lost at times throughout the work, I admit.

All together: Love the fruit. I really do, but I don't know how it ties in at the beginning. Give me a reason to have your family frozen. Are you killing them and putting them into cryogenic sleep? I want to know about that, I do. How are they preserves? Are you preserving them for later? Eating them? I'm starting to like this poem, but only if that's the case--that's not true though because I like your poem anyway. What is the metaphor about with the linens. I love the linens because you used "white" right before it, but tell me what it means, because I don't know. Final instruction: Keep kicking ass.