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Review: Bad Poetry/Coffee Shop Times

May 21, 2011 - by Adam Vatterott

The poetry at Bad Poetry is bad. Awful. Despicable. Atrocious. And it knows it. It’s that self-deprecating self-awareness that makes the read entertaining. Most poems are filled with imageless, angsty lines, such as “Maybe I am dying for the wrong person” and “My tiny, mucus-like backwash friend.” Other poems go for admirable juvenility, like one that describes a sorority girl who is “wholly disgusted and perturbed / by the disturbed misbehavior / of my super-intelligent sphincter.” Others are badly melancholy, like the “Lament of the Baby Bird“:

Mommy gave me one last worm,
And pushed me from the nest.
I flapped me widdle wings
As hard as I could,
And fell down on me chest.
I see the kitty coming now,
He’s ready to digest.
So I’ll see you in heaven, mommy,
I know you did your best.

The site (which may be defunct) has some broken links, including the feature that allows you to submit your own bad poetry. Shucks — and I’ve got plenty.

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