Really badA Poem by LanaYou shall not be bad Pay attention to rhymes You shall not write Until you respect the lines But I want to be bad And I want to burn the fish I bought At a fish market And then I want to eat it I love it that way And I could write a thousand poems about it About a fish That started life swimming away And a fisherman steals it Grabs it, suffocates it And the fish has a seizure Slowly but surely It's dead And its dark orbs are still dark and dead Just as dead as when it was alive And suddenly I buy it And I cook it very very badly I cook it for dinner And I invited guests over How dare I? It was very bad But I enjoyed it Oh boy I wanted to try to write in iambic pentameter But it just made me throw up I can't do it This is my stanza on it I poop on it I throw up on it and it's a cement mix of nothing It's ugly oh boy very ugly And very bad But I cannot do it It ruins the fun out of it I want to write about a fish That's it And just making it rhyme at the end I just believe that the end matters Just like life it's a bow that you wrap And you can make it beautiful but Usually I would buy a bow at a cheap market For a couple bucks And I would wrap it around a box A beautiful box And when the poet opens it up He just sees sawdust Oh yes he was horrified He couldn't believe that the ugliness multiplied His voice still echoes in my mind He told me you shall not be bad Pay attention to rhymes I didn't know what rhyming was And I use the word rhyme but I don't know what a rhyme is I don't know what poetry is But he told me I was very very bad It reminded me of a child A child pointing at its knee And telling its mama "Look, it's very very bad, I hurt myself!" It's me, I have a wound it's pretty bad He pointed it at me The poet He was horrified as I said I did injure my fingers So I just type letters That have nothing to do with each other They just dance in circles They make love sometimes without condoms And then there are these diseases They start to form and the electricity Of my laptop suddenly It dies Completely dies It's horrified by the virus But then it recovers, you know It recovers completely So I don't understand why I have to make sure That my fingers are recovering Or that my laptop needs a review I think I just love my burnt fish My ugly laptop and my fingers the way they are Oh I am bad I'm very bad I've been bad since the day I died And when I ressurected I multiplied I'm like Coronavirus I just have variants of myself One day I'm bad The next I'm even more bad Very very very bad And so it is My friends This is my poem And this is my art Oh it's bad Really bad
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