Bad poet
In the spirit of wonderfully bad poetry introduced in Robby’s blog, I shall now attempt to make all English majors’ eyes bleed with my horrid writing.
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I sit in the computer lab
thinking that my life is fab.
All the while I hit “tab” on my keyboard.
My life is actually drab, and I’m bored.
The white cinder block walls stare at me.
(They must have eyes, but I can’t tell because they are completely white, as cinder blocks are supposed to be.)
The lights are too bright, but I can change that.
There’s this thingy on the desk that can change that.
My computer monitor on the right is the wrong resolution,
making my eyes wander in revolutions.
But my shift is almost over,
making me more lucky than if I had gone out into the field behind the gym and found myself a green four-leaf clover.
That poem is terrifying. Also, the first stanza has some very complex internal rhyming that is incongruous with the horrible nature of the last two stanzas. To be truly mindless and awful, a poem must make no sense and it must sound like it was written in the midst of a grand mal seizure. Yours is still too good for that. Try again next time!
What?! The word “fab” doesn’t push it over the top for you? Well, thanks for the compliment anyway, I guess.
Katy, a, a, ab, ab does NOT CONSTITUTE COMPLEX. IT QUALIFIES AS BAD. Get it right.
Trust me I’ve heard much worse. It all depends on how you read it LOL.