This has an actual prize so keep reading. All you bloggers need a short break from The Crisis, The Conference, and from reading about people hammering Mark Shea just because he is right. I’m looking for the worst free-verse poetry you can heave onto the page. It has to be original – don’t send me any William McGonagall or Yoko Ono you pulled off the net. Any topic is welcome but please avoid the near occasion of sin for your sake and mine. The jongluer whose poesy is so bad that it makes me want to grate cheese will get a handsome 15-decade rosary. You can use it to pray unceasingly that I don’t come to your house and read you all the entries I received. Remember, poetry doesn’t have to be long to be bad. Here’s my entry:
don't call your mother-figure collect or mine rather say to the piano it is very very very very bad for having black and white keys instead of paws like a cat or a mongoose lunch