Poetry that makes you sick.

Poetry that right off the bat makes me groan and want to whip off my corset and strangle the author with the laces is archaic language poetry. Thine most bulbous cheeks disguise what doth betwixt them lie- Hark! Could it verily be a sphincter? Yeah, um, that kind of crap. Next in line is the "Wow, I'm deep" poetry- these are the folks who have hot glue gunned crystals to their foreheads so their aural holes will flush out impurities- I say, hey! Keep you chakra juice in your bung hole where it belongs. Don't break out your thesaurus and find a million ways to tell me how profoundly humble you are and that your toenails smell like lavendar and your just breathing and being and letting it all goooooo. For Beelzebub's sake, go get lost in the desert and write some cacti haiku, would ya? Okay, next are the erotic poets. Yessirreee, Bob. These are the gals with endless yearning caverns (I would not admit to that personally, makes a man think of just putting his head down there and shouting his name just to hear it echo back.) and the only sympathy I feel for them is there are only so many metaphors and allusions one can use before you just start to sound preposterous: "The stallion was covered in a light layer of sweat for the afternoon was blazing. She approached the great beast, removing her riding habit, for there was no one to see her do it and climbed onto his back in a white camisole, her auburn hair falling wildly to her waist. As they moved together, the heat rose from the beast and dampened her firm thighs..." Okay so I didn't give such a great example. The worst of these were always the cunnilingus (sp?) poems on Poets.com. It was always some jarhead who was like, Yeah, I can do dat real good. I'll write a poem about it. This is gonna get all those girls sooooo....nauseous. Oh, and I hate pretentious poems, too. Like, "Conversations with Plath"-get the #%$& outta here. ...C


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