A Conversation for How to Write Bad Poetry

Free-verse bad poetry

Post 1

Dr. Funk

To chop those three minutes' thought down to two, just don't bother rhyming at all; to lend it that air of sophistication, just use random words and unorthodox spelling, punctuation, indentation, and line spacing. For instance:

Example One--Animals, Amminals

Give me a chicken (or do not give me a wheelbarrow--you think I care?)
and I will show you the Weasel
(for my elbo Yet has no Skin)
who, in top hat and pink tuxedo,
flays errant cab drivers, the fish jockeys of the Future,
who curse him, screaming through maggot mustaches
to the ends of the lizard earth.

Presto! Read this aloud accompanied by trombone and trash can lids, and you've really got something people will pay money to see.


Free-verse bad poetry

Post 2

J. Nigel Aalst

That's brilliant! So brilliant, that I'm going to steal it.

Look for me at the poetry slams and coffeehouses. I'll be lugging around the trombone, trash can lids, triangle, tambourine, megaphone and airhorn.


Free-verse bad poetry

Post 3

Sad, Mad or Bad? - I always wanted to be a dino, but alas, I'm just old.

I see I am but an amateur smiley - smiley


Free-verse bad poetry

Post 4

Dr. Funk

What can I say? It's a gift, honed by years of practice. smiley - smiley


Free-verse bad poetry

Post 5

Sad, Mad or Bad? - I always wanted to be a dino, but alas, I'm just old.

My bad poetry just pales in comparison smiley - smiley

Oh thou poet
Thou hast outdone me,
I who believed I could actually write
something that would make people cringe
Or perhaps illustrate
what Australians mean by technicolour yawns.


Free-verse bad poetry

Post 6

Dr. Funk

St. Sag,

Example Two: Catechism: (The Spleen of) God

Q: Who is to judge worse and worsest? Not I,
Not the purple Omphalos, and not you, gelatinous you.

A: If Whitney Houston falls from the beak of a
Marauding rubber pterodactyl, could she fall any faster
To the hamstrung marsh, the house of meat, if Bobby Brown
Still loves her? Shut up! You have a point.

Q: I remember once--no, no, I remember all the time--
I remember the glistening synthesizer
Wriggling out of the radio--

A: --Do not play basketball with me, young man,--

Q: --while I tattooed Lorna Hershowitz (five foot two)
On the inside of my cheek. Tiny plastic robots with
Phlegm in their crabby eyes. I love you, or not.

A: --for it may rupture your...?


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