ND’s Bad Poetry Festival- Day 1

 

#1  Putrid Prose
By Paul Petrucci

Our love is like a putrid rose,
Decayed and rotting, decomposed.
Rancid, moldy, spoiled and rank.
Smelly.

But I remember years before,
Our love was like a stout, bold boar.
Stout meaning strong, not heavy.
Or chubby.

Your adoration, strong and sweet,
Was something like a dog in heat.
Another analogy might be better.
Can’t think of one.

I hope that this, my final chance,
Can save our tender, sweet romance.
That I can find the metaphor,
To open up your heart once more.
To chance upon the simile,
That paints love like a melody,
Or string the sounds that just could be a
Perfect onomatopoeia.
But I can’t.

Damn it.

 

#2.  In Search of Hoben Bay

By Joven Bleen

I sat down next to a teen named Royer one day
We rocked on our chairs and he began to say:
“They say there is a bay, far, far away;
Donde the ghosts of coups past goes to play.”
I said: “Interesante Teen, where is that plays?”
He said: “It’s called Hoben Bay.”
Then I noticed he’d been drinking elephant pata all day
And I say “No way. vos tenes cara de bolo face
And he say “fuimonos pueh”
And we went to search for Hoben Bay. Long day.
We saw freshwater sharks lurking in that bay
Then we went to Bar Nehstorr and called it a day.
I ordered an espry. It taste okay.

 

#3   The Pettifogger: Ode to my Nicaraguan Lawyer

By Chip “Skippy” Sealkiss

 

You wear a tie of green
Like other lawyers I have seen,
                Or a businessman,
                A classy stripper,
Or my dog on Halloween

Your handshake is soft and weak,
Like a platypus’s beak
               Low blood-pressure?
               Childhood illness?
Do you stand to take a leak?

I tower way over you
In centimeters by 32
                Maybe less
                Could be more
Metric system I never knew

Your waiting room sure smells clean
The couch be gentle on my spleen
                Jar of mints
                Beveled glass
I’ll take my coffee with some cream

You speak in legalese
To me it’s all Chinese
                Numero Ruc
                Actas book
Just don’t screw me, please

Your cell phone is never on
In meetings all day long
                Do you check email?
                Return your calls?
Oh where did I go wrong?

Then I get the bill
I think I might be ill
                Pettifogger
                Hornswoggler
How are you in business still?

 

#4  Power Outage

By Harry Pantalones

Fenosa, you call your self
Union of thieves and robbers
Can you not keep my power on?
Kick me while I’m down
You balk not to charge me steeply
Offering little in return
Under a dark roof I simmer.

  • Mahmoud

    That hobben bay. Thats some really really bad poetry! Wow! terrible.
    Hats off to you hobben bay.

  • Dennis McCormick

    Power Outage shows too much promise to win bad poetry. Going for Rotten Prose.

  • Ben Spence

    Harry Pantalones. Really? Sounds like you could be wearing a hair shirt. Kudos.