The 2012 Bad Poetry Contest continues…
That’s right. Put down that Amanda Hocking novel and start thinking “bad” — as in, “bad poetry.” Every year during my birthday week we take some time away from talking writing and marketing and books, in order to focus on what’s really important — crappy poetic license. You’re free to let your imaginations run wild. For example, yesterday, we got this stinker submitted by the deep and meaningful Ben Erlichman…
A Fruit Soliloquy
Alas, the moose, she has taken my bananas
And I can hear the sound of the wailing wind no longer.
Whatever shall I do? How can I reclaim
What has been taken from me?
It is as if my very soul cries out
In hopes for some relief, some comfort,
Some fresh produce to make me regular once again.
Let’s face it, a paean to irregularity is the perfect sort of set-up to bad poetry. This one is lodged like a chunk of cheese in the digestive tract of my mind. So thanks, Ben. And now I invite YOU to participate. Just hit “comment” down below and post your worst work.
Yours in digestive artistry,
**I’m thinking Ben has his eye on that Gaga goody!
I dip my chip in artichoke
I poke you not
I fought for that chip that I did dip with a swing of my hip
To choke is art
Alas I depart
Before I smart or croak or flip
Over the loss of my beloved salsa.
Stolen, no more. Slows my pulsa
Until my last breath I chew
The chip that reminds me of you.
FTR: Any reference to the contest judge’s name is purely coincidental… I swear on my love for dark chocolate.