Now, just to confound my brother, Anonstrodamus, there will be no Corgi pictures today... but -
Here is the poem from last week's poetry prompt on Poetic Asides.
"For today's prompt, I want you to write a bad poem. Take bad in any direction you want, but for me, I'm going to try to just write a horrible poem. (This where the hecklers can shout out, "Why try when it comes natural?") Anyway, let's get bad!"No Bad Poems
by Constance Brewer
What have you done? Naughty! Bad
poem. Go to your file folder.
No, don't try the puppy dog eyes.
Maybe if you hadn't jumped
on the editors and left uninspired
four-letter words all over their
pristine publication, I'd be in a better
mood.
How come every time the muse
rings the bell, you degenerate
into an alliteration frenzy? It's not
attractive. And why, oh why,
can't you leave traditional
forms alone? Must you gnaw
a sonnet until it's skeletal verse,
worry a villanelle to stuttered repetition,
barf a ballad onto the kitchen floor
in an unappetizing mess of country
song pickled in Scotch?
I ought to drop the choke chain over
your muscled neck and drag you on a walk
around the public block. But other people never
notice bad Bad Poem. They only see sprightly
verse, wagging tale, and the silkiness
of your long, black typography.
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