Poems You'll Never Read in English Class, Part 1

After Jason’s post last week about poetry, I started thinking about poems and how, many years ago, I tried writing some. This lasted about as long as my flirtations with jogging or dieting, and the results were equally disastrous. Over the years, I’ve gone back to dabble in poems, and these are just a few that serve as lessons as to why my hands should be chopped off and I should never be allowed to write again.

1.

Scraping himself against backyard grass

our new young puppy does wipe his ass.

And though sometimes it gives me the squirms,

it’s much preferred over seeing his worms.

2.

HALLOWEEN

At eight years old I just wanted candy

And in my costume I looked quite dandy,

But at the neighbor’s house just down the street,

Waiting for a witch’s free tasty treat,

I opened my bag to receive her gift

But instead got dinner mints, petty thrift.

So, surprised, I turned away from the witch

And, walking home, called her a cheap old bitch.

3.

My father told me to bring him a bucket,

And when I did, he took out the mop.

He wet the head, but decided to stop,

And, leaving the kitchen, said “Fuck it.”