I admit I’m not a poetry lover. I don’t even like poetry. I like it better when it rhymes, like the Ancient Mariner. Sometimes I read the poetry in The New Yorker, and inevitably sneer or mutter “Jesus Christ.” I used to think it was a failure on my part, but now I’m comfortable with all of my biases.
I once had a job that involved stupid magazines with stupid ads for suckers, like devices to enlarge your breasts overnight. One of the ads was for a poetry contest, that was clearly a scam. It was something like “YOU TOO COULD BE A POET! ENTER THIS CONTEST AND WIN $10,000!”
I showed it to my young teenager and we decided to send in a poem to find out what the scam was. It was back in 1990, but I still remember laughing as we took turns composing it. Max was reading Stephen King at the time, who was a master of the idiotic mixed metaphor, and you can see the Stephen King influence throughout.
Sure enough, our poem won an Honorable Mention! and we could see it published in a nice anthology for only $49.95! We decided to pass. *If you want to try this too, go here.
Keeping in mind my disappreciation for poetry, I was excited to discover a poem by my husband’s ex-wife, my bête noire and the Anti-me. While I try to follow her monthly column in her community newspaper, somehow the poem escaped my attention until now. “Escaped my attention” is the kind of thing she would write, so I apologize, but she would have prefaced it with “hitherto.”
I won’t pretend to “get” this poem; You don’t need to get it to enjoy it, right? But once I figured out its subject, I was inspired to write my own elegy:
Ode To The Tennessee 3
What fresh hell is this! Voting
To kick them out for
ProtestingEven the fat white lady knew how
Wrong
This was. PlusThe 2 young black guys
Are so hot!
Especially the Brother with
The earring and long hairI even followed
Him
On Instagram.
I shared it with my friend M, a published novelist and hardcore fan of the Ex’s work, and he countered with this:
Tennessee 3 braving
and behaving
No
The guy with the Afro is the hotter of the 2
Whew! I’d hate to have to pick the winner here, but I would love to pick the winner of your entries! So, (YOU TOO COULD BE A POET!) please submit a poem about the Tennessee Three and the winner will get a nice certificate! If anyone out there is an artist, you can help design it.
Don’t be shy! There are no losers, only winners!
Oh, Tennessee, my Tennessee,
how many es in Tennessee.? Or is it e’s?
Sweet yellow rose of Tennessee, no wait – is that not Texas?,
Anyway you of The Three! Of ‘fro, and earring, and black and white bird dress
(black and white! Let freedom ring till your
ears
bleed, you kick ’em out-voting bunch
of
assholes.)
Ah! Oh! My heart is with the three of Tennessee yet I am mired in the Me, The Me! I want this to be about Me! Dense yet a mere vapor! Brimming o’er with thoughts
being thought, like
where
to put this
next line, and others too.
But the (My!) center cannot hold, someone said somewhere, something about
something, blah blah blah, and there was a rough beast or was it roast beef
Oh! Yes! I must get some of that good bread from the deli for My
lovely
sandwich.
Oh! Ah! Oooh! The Three, them again. I love you all, you must know. To the height
My Soul
Can reach which isn’t that far, but don’t tell.
Mmmm, Tennessee! Rhymes with Three! And Me!
Oh! Ah! Ooooh! Mmmm!
Get some Swiss for that sandwich.
Bevitron – Hahahahahahaha! I dare anyone to top this.
Roses are red
violets are blue
Fuck everyone in the Tennessee government except those 3
and fuck poetry
MJ – Very post-modern! thank you! Fuck poetry is my feeling, too. xo
That was
definitely unjust
the states become laboratories of anti-democracy
meanwhile in other countries things aren’t looking great either
whither democracy, america
and for that matter the world
That was definitely
unjust.
States become laboratories of anti-democracy.
This global right authoritarian turn
is getting me down.
Maggie – I like that there are alternate versions! I also love “wither”! So far, you are in second place! xo
Thank you Bevitron
I urinated my pants reading your poem
In a good way