Hey guys! I think I may have found the worst poem ever.
It is here, on some sort of appalling amateur writing zine called "ink sweat and tears" (needs more blood) and it is by someone called Stephanie Davies who, if she is any older than 15, should be forever banned from writing so much as a Christmas card for producing this piece of reeking tripe.* I'm not going to pick it apart. It picks itself apart! It goes bad-bad-bad-bad-worse.
XXXX
A party someplace, down in the dirt
With her blouse undone and a hand up her skirt
She lays, her body compliant as clay
And softly her mind drifts to thoughts of decay.
His thoughts, to delay, are on Kevin Rudd
His thrusts push her further into the mud.
She thinks: undressed, every boy is just the same;
Her heart aches with you don’t even know my name.
But he’s done, murmuring allegories into her ear
So she sits up and swallows the rest of her beer.
WORST. POEM. EVER.
*I know this sentence is grammatically incorrect but I can't figure out how to fix it.
P.S. I was talking to a hooker today and she is making $500 - $1000 per day. PER DAY. I feel a career change coming on. How many jobs can you make that kind of money in an entry level position? Heh. Entry level position.
9 comments:
That poem is the story of how I lost my virginity!!*
*(except that's it's not)
I'm concerned that Kevin Rudd pops into the guy's mind when he's having sex.
Has he SEEN Kevin Rudd?
Or is it Clever Social Commentary?
Yes...more than the poem, I was concerned about this Kevin Rudd business.
Also, entry level position. Heh.
Heh.
I can't write poems, but if I could, I totally do better than that!
I agree with Andrea. Sex + Kevin Rudd = WTF!? o.O
Speaking of bad writing, I'm assuming you've already seen this: http://www.stuff.co.nz/entertainment/books/3113485/Boiled-egg-metaphor-scoops-bad-literary-sex-award
This was written by a bloke.. or a gal that thinks like a bloke.. either way 'shite'
The give away is the line about Rudd.. using this as a reason to not finish to soon.. instead of Tantra
I think Tantra may have helped not just the poem but the Blokessa that wrote it.
This poem drew you to a previous discussions with a working girl... which line brought this forward to your mind?
'She lays, her body compliant as clay
And softly her mind drifts to thoughts of decay.'
She is a sack of spuds & she thinks about death... I hope not all working girls/guys are feeling like this.. they should get a new job (so to speak)
P.S. I think I know the crazy lookin biker you Haiku'd.. cool bike... odd bloke
Yeah, that poem was like, a joke.
Nobody gets my genius.
personally I think it was amazing and I am in no doubt that it was written by a girl, given the mataphors and language used. I bet shes hot too!
Do you critics even know what XXXX is? I thought it was a very clever poem.
I like that poem actually. You sure you get it?
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