BAD POETRY FOR REASONABLY
GOOD PEOPLE
DISCLAIMER: THESE POEMS WERE WRITTEN WITH THE SOLE PURPOSE OF INDUCING EYEROLLS, ENCOURAGING SCOFFS, AGGRAVATING THE INNER EDITOR AND FEEDING YOUR SMUG NATURE. DON’T TAKE THIS SERIOUSLY, AND IF YOU DO I OFFER NO APOLOGIES.THERE IS A GOOD CHANCE MY SPELLING IS LACKING THE APPROPRIATE LETTERS, GRAMMAR, SITUATION, OR LANGUAGE.THIS WAS NEVER INTENDED TO BE A SATISFYING, WELL WRITTEN, OR SUBSTANTIAL READ. YOU MAY BE LESS OF A PERSON AFTER READING THIS.
PLEASE QUESTION EVERYTHING.
IF LIFE WAS AS HARD, AS IT USE TO BE I WOULD PUT MY PANTS ON TWO LEGS AT A TIME. JUMP INTO MY JUMPERS AND ABSEIL MY SOCKS. EAT PORRIDGE WITH MY HANDS, OR CHOPSTICKS, OR WITH A COMB FROM MY BOOT. WASH MY FACE WITH GRAVEL AND PLAIT MY EYEBROWS. ALL BEFORE 8 O’CLOCK. AND THEN I’D HAVE SOMETHING TO MOAN ABOUT TO THE YOUNG PEOPLE. BUT IT’S NOT.
ALL ALL ALL ALL ALL ALL ALL ALL ALL ALL ALL ALL ALL AND ALL BUT ALL AND ALL ALL ALL
FOR NOTHING. FOR ONE. FOR EACH OTHER. FOR ANOTHER. FOR THE WINNER. FOR THE UNDERDOG. FOR THE ‘KID’. FOR THE CREAKY SPRINGS. FOR THE ‘NOT YOU’ FALL. FOR CHANGES IN THE MENU. FOR THE COOL FRIEND. FOR THE RETRO TREND. FOR OUR MOTHERS, HER COOKING. FOR VISITING, MORE FOR COMING HOME AGAIN. FOR THE BROKEN HEARTS, BETTER YET THE MENDING. FOR ‘THAT SONG’. FOR THE GOOD HAIR DAY. FOR THE UNEXPECTED ENDING.
IF I WAS IN THE MOVIES MAYBE PEOPLE WOULD LIKE ME... WELL NOT ME EXACTLY. THE PRODUCT OF WRITERS, DIRECTORS, COACHES, MAKE UP ARTISTS, EDITORS, AND FICTION. A FAKE ME. I’M NOT ME, BUT YOU COULD BE ME, WITH THE HELP OF... WRITERS, DIRECTORS, COACHES, MAKE UP ARTISTS, EDITORS, AND FICTION.
I COULD BE REALLY HAPPY WITH A DOG
I’VE NEVER BEEN SO JEALOUS, SUCH UNREQUITED ENVY. THEY GET THE BEST OF THE FOOTPATH THEY DON’T HAVE TO WALK OR RUN, KIDS IN PRAMS AND STROLLERS THEY SHOULD BE PUSHING ME.
IN 63 DAYS I’LL BE SAD OR STRESSED OR SICK WITH HAPPINESS
TODAY I WAS TOLD THAT I COULD GO BLIND LETS SEE WHERE THAT GETS ME.
I SHOULD PROBABLY PURCHASE SOME ENLIGHTENMENT ONLINE. SHIPPING IS ONLY A DOLLAR.
I’M JUST LIKE MY DOG. I SLEEP AND EAT AND AVOID THE HEAT
I THINK I SHALL INDULGE IN WORDS
LUXURIATE HOW VERY DECADENT OF ME.
IF I WAS A POET A GINSBERG, A NERUDA, A BUKOWSKI, OR COHEN YOU MIGHT READ THIS THROUGH TO
THE END
DO YOU DRINK THE MILK FROM THE BOWL ONCE YOU’VE FINISHED YOUR CEREAL? THIS IS THE QUESTION OF MY GENERATION.
ARE YOU SURE IT’S REAL LEATHER? IF NOT MY FEET WILL SWEAT. I KNOW IT’S A HAT, BUT IN SPITE OF THAT, MY FEET WILL SURELY SWEAT. OH NO IT MOVED! OH YES IT’S REAL, I THINK HER NAME IS KYLIE.
LET’S ALL MEET IN THE CITY OF DEEP FRIED ANGELS!
IF I COULD WRITE A VERSE I WOULDN’T BE SO CURSED. MY WORDS ARE POORLY, ... WHAT RHYMES WITH POORLY?
LET’S HAVE A CONVERSATION ABOUT YOUR FOOLISH EXPLORATION INTO OUT OF SPACE WHILE OFF YOUR FACE. MOTHER WOULD NOT APPROVE. PLEASE REMEMBER TO WIPE YOUR SHOES.
WORDS ARE NOT MY THING NOT EVEN IF I SING. DRAWING. QUITE BORING? THE THING WITH THE LITTLE SQUIGGLY BITS? YEAH, THAT’S IT. ARRANGED IN THE RIGHT WAY, WELL, IT COULD JUST MAKE YOUR DAY.
TINFOIL DON’T BUY THE CHEAP KIND, IT’LL LET YOU DOWN EVERY TIME. A SHINY DECEIVER AND I KNOW IT’S BAD FOR THE WORLD. BUT I’VE GOTTA GET MY FIX BY WRAPPING THINGS WITH IT. IT IMPROVES MY COOKING WHICH NEEDS HELP JUST DONT CHEW IT OR PUT IT IN THE MICROWAVE.
ALL POEMS WERE WRITTEN BY ELEANOR ORCHARD AND SOMETIMES HER MOTHER. WWW.ELEANORORCHARD.COM