Wednesday, April 29, 2015


For five years now every April
I've endeavored to write
poems on masonry every day
the result's banal and trite.

Poorly conceived, poorly composed
poorly written and poorly done
thoughtless, reckless and poor
not even read by anyone.

Stilted and derivative
foolhardy and stupid
pretentious and sloppy
even hated by Cupid.

The worst of the worst
all too synthetic
these poems all suck
just plain pathetic.

No comments:

Post a Comment