Very Bad Poetry

I put my hat on in the morning,
and tilted it, too.
I walked outside and heard a warning,
about Kalamazoo.
Something about rebels in the street,
and shooting.
Or maybe it was girls with dirty feet,
out looting.
Anyway,
I walked on past a mirror,
and tilted some more.
I listened but couldn't hear-er,
that old 5-dollar whore.
Sometimes I give her cigarettes,
when she wants 'em.
But today I was after bigger bets,
like Charles Bronson.
My hat was like the one Humphrey Bogart wore.
It didn't really look right, though, with my beach shorts.

Mugs McClain has published 2 more terrible poems since joining on 30/11/99. Read more of Mugs's terrible poetry at the anthology. Here are three of Mugs's latest works: