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Happy National Asinine Poetry Month!

April 1, 2010 - by Catty Marlboro

NATIONAL ASININE POETRY MONTH: Well, it’s time of year when news agencies and morning radio shows mention unenthusiastically, or more likely, SARCASTICALLY, that it’s National Poetry Month. Much like African-Americans historians with African-American History Month, turkey lovers with National Turkey Lovers Month (NOT November, surprisingly, but who knows what KIND of love they’re speaking of, or not), or, um, I guess, people with high blood pressure, with National High Blood Pressure Month (go salt!), many poets have a problem with the designated celebrations, since, hey, why don’t we celebrate African-American History, Turkey Loving (gobble gobble, handsome), high blood pressure, and poetry EVERY month, ALL the time?? What can I tell you? And it being April 1 as I post this, this makes this THE Asinine Poetry Day. Anyway, as long as we know everything is asinine all the time, why shouldn’t everyone else feel free to celebrate asininity whenever they like. Cheers!

VIDEO KILLED THE POETRY STAR: Have you seen our latest attempt to conquer another medium?

Personally speaking, I don’t think it’s awful. Wish they had use a GENERIC brand though! Sigh. Still, tis asinine.

OUR LATEST QUICKIE: We had another 48-HOUR CHALLENGE, this time for a rhymer about the Tea Bag Party. Poet Kat Wopat wrote the winning ode—read it here—and gets a tee shirt for her trouble. Meanwhile, here are the two runner-ups.

Defriended by a Tea Bagger
by Chard Debonair (pseudonym much?)

Our time has ended . . .
Our opinions never blended.

Constant posts about Scott Brown
and putting reason down
Made me frown.

And then came health care
You viewed it as a wealth share
As freedom’s warning flare

How can people be so dumb?
As dumb as they come.
Beating a hateful drum.

I wanted to voice my disdain,
But I refrained,
as there was nothing to gain.

Finally I spoke
Your post must be a joke
You must want to revoke

But no it was real
Your friends made me their meal
They have no ability to feel

Now I’m glad we are through
But you still have no clue
Let the GOP keep poking you.

Tea Bag Party
by Howard Pflanzer

No more tea
Get out the axes
For a killing spree.

Chop up health care
Down with welfare
Up with warfare
Nothing to fear.

Curse the gays
Curse the blacks
Curse the days
Twist the facts.

Down with the house
Let it fall
Get your spouse
Go shop at the mall.

Love corruption
Let it bloom                                                               A popular eruption
Is coming very soon.

Up with bankers
Up with fraud
Raise the anchors
And praise the lord.

THIS MONTH’S HACKS: To celebrate National Asinine Poetry Day and Month, we did . . . pretty much what we always do. To start off, Gorgeous George Spencer riddles his poem with the curse of the writing class. Racy Raul Chuletas swings in an ode to a minority (until 2042) superhero. Our 48-HOUR CHALLENGE winner Kat Wopat goes under the skirts of the Tea Bag Party to see if they’ve got any balls. Sassy Steve Blackburn just should stop looking at girls on trains. Jaunty Jessica L. Kleinman depicts the results of an experience that rocked her world. Handsome Hal Sirowitz goes groping for greatness. Randy Ryan Quinn Flanagan is not getting invited to this year’s jamboree. Sweet and sour Suet Go whines with wisdom. Hellcat Holly Day ain’t taking snore for an answer. Crazy Carlos Hiraldo alerts the HR department. MEANWHILE, in our prose section, viscous V.S. Frimmit expresses what we all feel about cellphones. Oh wait, I have a text! And debuting on the site, marvelous Marina Rubin flashes us some fiction about baggage beyond the Baltic. And in our CLASSICS section, Thomas Hardy riffs on an elegy for himself.

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