The worst poetry in Chicago

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Happy Bad Poetry Day! Yesterday, I asked readers to write the worst poem in Chicago and post it in the comments of yesterday's post and we had a huge response of bad poetry! Who knew you had it in you, readers dear? The results were positively awful, and by awful, I mean awesome! Just take a look at all of the bad poetry submitted yesterday.

And the winners of Subtext awards (har har) for the worst poems in Chicago.... (drumroll please):

I love you Oprah: a sonnet
by Anna Pulley of Sex and the Windy City

Do you think I'm stupid, Oprah?

Just because you never respond to my tweets
doesn't mean my heart doesn't leap
each time I see you on the big screen of my devotion
(21 inches, baby!)

You may have blocked my Twitter account
But you can never deactivate MY SOUL!

I forgive you. You're Oprah! How could I not?
You run on awesome, while the rest of the world
only runs on Dunkin Donuts.

O, O how I long to see your face while I am sleeping and not so quietly
shedding heart-shaped tears for you.
my love is like a hummingbird on crack - fluttering! FlutterING. Until it bites me!
Ow, O. Wow, NO.

Just what are you insinuating with tweets like this:
"Been traveling with all my peeps 1525 harponians and their families to 5 countries 7 cities."
Are you mocking me by listing the thousands of people closer to you than I am?

It's OKAY, my love. Your passive-aggressiveness is like poetry to me.
I'll be thinking of you when I drink my Acai Berry cocktail - I named it after you -

Oprahwesome.

Me as the Giant Rowboat Saving the Jack Dawson's of the Earth On the Hot Sea of Government / Corporate Oppression
by Jord

The pedophilic gov'ment
With its Dick-in-son
Ways--
Its sticky snake
Itching to swallow our freedoms like so many
Mouses.
I will be the tonic--
A modern-day Shaman for you--
The poor, wretched masses
Sleeping
As you are
In blissful ignorant bliss,
Being drowned by Dr. McGillicuddy and
Trite sitcoms,
In tweets and twitters and iphones and
Sasha Fierce and bumfights,
In Martha Stewart and
Japanese bukkake films.
I will not let my freedom be
Bukkaked
By the thinking machines.
I start revolutions on Wednesdays
For the hell of it!
I rip the toupee
From the bald skull of society
And reveal the weird, sort of egg yolk colored glue beneath!
I will deactivate the system!
I block the cookies that would enslave me!

Untitled
by Michael 68

Chicago, I have never been to you but I have been to you
I imagine you to be delicious and arboreal
when I drive the Loop just off of lower Wacker

Chicago you are like toothpaste in my soul
you brush me clean of twitters, dupes and fakes
Even though your winds blow my toupees hither and yon

Chicago, if you were a loving movie for me
it would win Best Animated Feature
You are so arboreal I can't begin to tell you what it means
The word "arboreal" I mean not you.
I know what you mean, Chicago
I have never been to Chicago but I have been...to Chicago.
I have never been to you but I insinuate that have been to you
by writing that I have been to you and by writing about Lower Wacker
like I know your geography or something
I have been to you but this is a poem about feelings
and hair-raising events like Mister Spock said
we should beam out of here with our babies on board
sweet home Robert Johnson song Chicago
you make me have no idea what I'm talking about
And that's what I think about Chicago
I have never been to Chicago but I have been to Chicago
and somehow that's just Sandburg enough for me.

As for the rest of you-- take heart! Your bad poetry is just too good
to be that bad. Er, you know what I mean. Happy bad poetry day!

Filed under: events, news

Tags: holidays, poetry

Comments

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  • YES! Will there be a plaque or gift certificate to Chili's? :) Ooh, or a guest spot on Orpah??

  • These are astonishingly bad. I especially like Mike68's. Cheers to bad poetry!

  • Good choices! After reading Anna's original entry, it was going to be hard to beat. Thanks for the outlet for bad poetty - but do we have to wait for it just once a year??

  • I never knew there were so many bad poets around. But what a fun thing to do. Maybe I will try my hand at it the next time. There will be a next time, no?

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