Today is Bad Poetry Day,
so I will not write a poem that is good.
I will instead opt for the poetic equivalent
of a movie written and directed by Ed Wood.
The rhymes might be imperfect
and the meter might be off.
I've no doubt that all the literati
will look down their noses and scoff.
It is never going to win
the Bollingen Poetry Prize.
It's so shitty that it will do nothing
except fester and possibly attract flies.
You might not think it's as good
as a poem written by Wallace Stevens.
If you manage to find someone who cares,
then feel free to air your grievance.
This poem is worse than mediocre.
One might say it's unequivocally infernal.
I've no illusions that it will ever be published
in any respectable literary journal.
I hope that any critic who may read it
will call it an unmitigated disaster,
for this a time to wane poetic.
This is a day to be a poetaster. - Jeff Barnes
