Some really bad poetry

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MIS 720, March 30, 1998
by Carl

I am mental
from watching "Yentl"
I've got insurance but I don't have dental
My mind is slipping
the faucet's dripping
I just got called, two minutes for tripping
I hate flowcharting
my feet are smarting
I want to leave because this dude keeps farting
I'm going bonkers
While lost in Yonkers
And pecked to death by all these ducks and honkers
We have cohesion
A painful lesion
We'll wear grass skirts like we're Polynesian
I'll drink a cola
While singing "Lola"
Then make a call on Kevin's Motorola

I Don't Like John
by Hodge

Suddenly and with no warning
the unremarkable day yielded
to the steely seven-inch blade
slicing noiselessly
into the pulp of young John's moist head
its contents spurting, seeping
while the head's owner twitched
like an earthworm drying on the road:

A clarinet lay in the grass
while little girls danced gayly unaware.

Muffin Man
(a song I haven't recorded yet)
by Carl

I am the Muffin Man
And it's getting out of hand
You see the way I am
For I am that Muffin Man

I am the Muffin Man
And it's getting out of hand
You see the way I am
For I am that Muffin Man

Muffin Man Muffin Man Muffin Man Muffin Man
Muffin Man Muffin Man Muffin Man Muffin Man

I am the Muffin Man
You are the Biscuit Boy
You see the way I am
It does not bring me joy
I stay here for all time
So get out while you still can
Get the hell away from me
For I am that Muffin Man

The Potted Meat Blues
by Hodge, 1988

Here I lie clutching my side
Racked with pains I am stricken,
For packing my stomach far and wide
With mechanically separated chicken;

My belly aches from loading my fork
With meaty goop that oozes,
It's cooked fatty tissue of pork
And beef tripe in natural juices;

And now I curse my waitress so sweet
A devious, evil girl,
Who gave me the potted meat
Which I'm now dying to hurl.

by Jonathan

Beneath the Grass
Worms wriggle
Grass Blades tremble
In the Wind that carries
Cottonwood Dandruff
And Dead Flowers
Discarded Tree Genitalia
And Words record it.

by Jonathan

Tendrils of oily black
Growing into the rotten sky
They reach for blasphemous heavens
To save them
From electric oceans
Of tears
And the dead rock trembles

Reign of the Mutant Snails
by Hodge

Welcome home to New York
eat your beans, eat your pork
the skies are filthy, the water is black
we're just glad to have you back!

the buckets seep an oozing slime
the buckets reek of baileys and lime
young men puke in torrid pails
then sell cups of mutant snails!

these snails are pets to some you see
they shriek like hawks atop a tree
these snails grow large and overweight
was that your mother they just ate?

one day snails will rule the earth
a day filled with snailly mirth
mollusks unite and dance with glee
the snails are here to set you free!

we humans will be allowed to live
long as we have something to give
just don't ask waiter Joe
for a steaming plate of escargot!

for that you'll perish in a cave
of mold and rot and men named Dave
mutant snails don't find that funny
in their new land of milk and honey!

so just act normal and eat your soup
just not alone, but in a group
a snail you think you'll just outrun
but you've never seen a mutant one!

they dance like elves and sing at night
sprouting wings and taking flight
their venom is hot and burns like acid
rendering your organs limp and flaccid!

so take my heed and you beware
of hairy men in underwear
and those buckets dark and foul
that emit an evil howl!

now we must unite and pray
that these snails will go away
spiky shells and slimy tails
that's the look of mutant snails!

A poem about Altoids
by Hodge

Altoids, altoids curiously strong
cause me to trip while walking along
sharp as a tack but with more bite
altoids, altoids are chock full of might;

Altoids, altoids curiously strong
good for your head, your heart, and your schlong
they make your life a minty delight
when kissing a girl on a summer's night;

Altoids, altoids curiously strong
toke your mint from a chalky bong
a bite, a bit, a tablet of sorts
now Tor, go back and study your torts!

A Belt is a Rowboat
by Carl

A belt is a rowboat
To help you along
My mind is an arrow
Thatís playing the gong.
A field is a window
Of plastic and mice
A hawk is a razor
Thatís doubled up twice.
My heart is a corn stalk
Dried out on the floor
Her mouth is a banshee
At quarter to four.
The truth is a beating
The light is a shot
My soul is a bucket
Thatís filled up with snot.

by Carl

I'll walk on the walls for the rest of my days,
And freak out the world with my deviant ways.
I'll call up the devil with a wave of my hand
And bring forth the fish as I lie in the sand.
My ears are like tigers; I hear every sound
I have bigger feet than you've seen on the ground.
I slither with angels, I float with the breeze
And elephants shudder whenever I sneeze.

A Cup is a Smile
by Hodge

A cup is a smile
Brimming with pride
And paper a canvas
On which I've lied.
The sheets are like gulleys
cut into my brain
The women all know
How wet is my reign.
But soaking in water
Like the great emu king
The urchins all wait
For a song to sing.
And then I have noticed
The source of their glee
My shoes were all filled
with their asparagus pee.

Staple in my Eye
by Hodge

I lay awake then jump to the sky
With a staple in my eye;
They shoot and dangle a fiery lance
Piercing my heart at second glance;
They kick and bite and laugh along
Singing and whooping their warring song;
But I have a weapon dear to me
That will make them wish to flee;
Their fortunes will grow ever darker
As I wield my yellow marker;
Drawing a streak of golden hue
They cower like children at the zoo;
I draw and coat them with a smile
They huddle in a shaking pile;
All different colors in my hand
Make me the ruler of this land;

Pigeon-Proof Glasses
by Hodge

Forty pigeons sitting on a wire
watching a midget attempting the lyre
one flew off, to the others' surprise
and tore open that midget's unknowing eyes;

The midget he screamed like a man possessed
"who's done this?" he screamed, but no one confessed
he barked and he stared without eyes, you see
he fell down the hill and broke his knee;

The birds they all chuckled with evil delight
their new warrior was off on a second flight
in search of other prey it seems to me
or back to the midget with the broken knee;

So be careful my friends of what's in the skies
perhaps a pigeon in evil disguise
set yourself apart from the hideous masses
and don a pair of pigeon-proof glasses!

Coming Down with Tourette's
by Tor

A thousand frozen explosions
stillborn in my head
like amphetamine snowflakes

Screaming meaningless obscenities
out loud, in my head,
sudden hits of anomie

Something has to fail
when past the eye of the storm
it can only get worse from here