SEND BAD POETRY MY WAY. (NOT YOUR OWN.)
I know it seems like I’ve been obsessed with poetry lately. Not true, though. I mean, yeah, sure, there are plenty of poems I like, but poetry is the acoustic guitar of the literary world: nice in the right hands, but when it’s being worked by a 300-pound lesbian beside a roaring campfire, it makes me cringe. And there are a lot of 300-pound lesbians out there.
That said, I need your worst poetry, and I need it now.
Here’s why: our friend and fellow thespian Lisa is undergoing chemo at the moment, and of course, her insurance isn’t nearly enough to cover the cost of treatment–much less wigs. So we’re putting together a benefit for her (check the mock-up invite below). In addition to the musical numbers and the comedy acts, yours truly will be reading some of the worst literature ever written. But first I have to find it.
Tyler and his partner, Jay, have been kind enough to send some real doozies my way, and of course Miss Somers will contribute a couple of sonnets, but I need more, more, more! I am not easily satisfied or sated. So start sending!
Pieces ought to be short–no more than a page or so–and truly, regrettably awful. They don’t have to be poems, but who doesn’t love rhyming couplets? Ideally, pieces should be written by someone the audience knows, like Elvis or George Washington or George Bush or Shakira. Yes: I will give a basket of monkeys to anyone who can find me a truly awful poem by Shakira. In fact, I’ll bestow untold gratitude on everyone who digs up literary gold.
One small stipulation: it shouldn’t be your own work. Have some self-respect, people.
sturtle [dot] com 