30 Poems in 30 Days: Day Two

On the Couch 

 Where we never are,

there are clothes in neat piles

and sometimes a cat.

 

It’s comfy,

and long enough for two, yet

where do we end up, but

 

curled in bed, like cats,

eating nuts and watching endless

murder.

 

On Saturday afternoons you watch 

Bloody Korean films and I type restlessly

Facebooking away the hours and 

 

watching videos of cranky cats

 

Sometimes then we snuggle

front to back

sleeping until the sun begins to

 

sink.

 

We are never on the couch,

where there are clothes

in neat piles

and sometimes a cat. 

 

 And…My least favorite poem.

I don’t actually have one. There are a lot of good poems, a lot of bad poems. I like may writers in many genres, but not every writer in every genre. Poetry is very subjective, so I’m not going to go on record here saying “This poem sucks.”

Well, except this one. 

Last year, as a challenge I wrote a…

Bad Love Poem

Because I love you, I feel pain
Because I love you, I walk in the rain
Because I love you, my feet are aching
Because I love you, my heart is breaking

Because I hate you, I called you a louse
Because I hate you, I burned down your house,
Because I hate you I told you to fuck off
Because I hate you, I jacked your duck off

Come back to me and I’ll stop talking
Come back to me, and you I’ll stop stalking
Come back to me or you’ll wish you were dead
Come back to me or I’ll cut off your head.

I gave you this poem so the voices would stop
I gave you this poem and you called the cops
I gave you this poem cause you’re such a whore
They’re publishing this poem on poetry.org

Now I’ll be famous, and then you’ll see
Now I’ll be famous, you’ll wish you were with me
Now I’ll be famous, I can get laid all the time
Now I’ll be famous, and you will be the one crying boo-hoo-hoo, you big ugly , mugly, fugly, slugly slime.

 

 I feel cheerily confident in the suckitude of this poem. It is trite in topic, and has bad meter and rhyme. It mentions rain and pain and is all about personal emotions that do not touch the universal. If you disagree, then you’re more than welcome to your love of my bad poetry. 🙂