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| AKA just another day on Vogon. |
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
Most poems rhyme,
This one doesn't.
Here's my second-favorite bad poem of all time:
If there's a bustle in your hedgerow,
Don't be alarmed, now,
It's just a spring clean for the May queen.
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| Dude, that's deep. |
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| There's always politics. |
Corn
by Chuck Baudelaire
A kernel of wisdom
From your ear to mine
So silky and husky
And often refined
You're a stalker, you wave at me
I watch you grow
You're my bread, you're my meal
And I relish you so
Though you've been through the mill
Still you're ready to pop
But these puns have grown corny
Time they ground to a stop.
That's good bad stuff.
My love, in your wan
ReplyDeletewickedness there are so many things to love
the way you pop a zit
the way through a crowd you shove
the way you yell at people
waiting in line to pay the electricity bill
the way you slap around at mosquitoes
and curse when you cannot kill.
My love, in your puffy pettiness
there is so much to adore -
the way you leave messes for others to clean up
the way you slam the door.
The way you throw around your weight to the peons
and bow and scrape to the bosses above
the way you snivel and you cavil
the way you sneer at my love.
This poem is all I have to give
my only gift on heaven or earth
and if you don't clean up your act, my darling
much worse things will find birth.
A Poem (more or less)
ReplyDeleteAlways drunk
like a skunk
but not as smelly
with vodka in the belly
makes me wonder
how you blunder
at writing a blog
but your mind does not clog
yes you be funny
funny funny funny
plop
You see I drink too
I do I do I do
but vodka's not my sin
it's gin gin gin
Hooray Hooray
It's bad poetry day