Bad Poetry
Oh Noetry
I did not write this poem. It is on my favorite weird t-shirt.
Everyone else should celebrate by writing a poem. After all, if it is good, great. If it is bad, then you are simply celebrating the holiday.
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there's this short story that this woman had tattooed (whoah three vowels in a row) on about fifteen hundred people--they all got one word. and no one's read the story. I guess that's one way to get published.
In Junior High I took first place in the poetry contest for this gem:
NON
There was a little nothing
Nowhere doing nothing
Nobody wants it
Nobody needs it
Not like that something
Somewhere doing something
Nope, just a little nothing
nowhere doing nothing
Oh yeah, and here's a link to my favorite weird T-shirt.
Recited, slam-style, from the backseat this evening by one Leda Marlowe Rossmann, 34 months:
Mommy, where we going?
Mommy, where we going?
I don't want to go on the freeway
Will there be trucks on the freeway?
Do they have ice cream for me?
I have pink shorts
And tights with stripes
Because it's cold
And it was raining this morning
Mommy, are we going faster?
I like to go really faster
Mommy, where we going?
Monkeys rule.
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