Why Did I Write That?! An anthology of awful high school poetry

You’ve probably heard me talking about my “bad poetry project” the last couple of weeks on social media.  This is it!

It started as a wild hair, joking with friends about how hilarious it would be to release a chapbook of all the shitty poetry I’d written back in high school. And college. And after college. Anyway…

Turns out, not only are other people willing to admit they wrote shitty poetry when they were hormone-riddled, but they think it’s hilarious and want to share it.

A few exciting conversations on Twitter, Facebook, and email later, I had fifteen contributors sending me some of the most cringe-worthy lines I’ve ever seen.

Why Did I Write That?! Embarrassing Poetry from School is the result.

Yes, it’s a real thing.

15 poets, 52 poems, 60 pages, intro by my own self.

Tomorrow, it’ll be $1.99 on Amazon, but…

For today only, it’s free to download right here.

You missed the deadline, bra!  But you can still buy it from me or Amazon.

Composition Notebook Front

 

I want to say a huge thank you to everyone who contributed and to everyone who encouraged me to take up this silly little project on a whim.  It’s been hilarious, touching, and inspiring.  And who knows?  Maybe we’ll do another one in the fall…

PS – If you’re interested in submitting your own bad poetry, on any topic and from any time period, visit my new Tumblr: Why Did I Write That?! where you can send in anonymous (or not) work for the enjoyment of the masses.

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A final reminder to myself

The Rock post surgery

And in the end,
you face all your challenges alone,
but the manner of the meeting
is up to you.

Hold your chin high,
put on the game face,
remember it’s not forever –
that suffering now means
freedom later.

You’re stronger in the broken places
with time.

Just bring it.
.

Elective

Bioluminescent bloom via New Scientist

“Your surgery is considered elective.”

To you.
Not to me.

You have choices –
an endless matrix of decisions
about space and need,
each variable impacting lives
and swaying fates.

But I have no choice –
not if I want to
walk the Great Wall or
safari in Botswana or
ride the vomit comet or
dig up dinosaurs or
swim in bioluminescent algae
in my lifetime.

“Elective” makes it sound fun.
Optional.
Like new tits or
tattoo removal.

This is neither fun nor optional.

This is the rest of my life
holding its breath to see
what sort of life it will be.
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