Very Bad Poetry

My mother said I tasted like old cigars
When I was born and she had kissed me to sleep
Her mother had come over from Cuba in the night
Across that treacherous 70 mile shark infested sea
In a dug-out Buick powered by an Evinrude outboard motor
The air filled with the smell of 10-40 motor oil
Commingled with the smell of old Cuban cigars
Smoked by fleeing factory workers seeking a new existence
In a new down-trodden factory on American soil
Run by dis-gruntled ex-Castro politicos preaching democracy
While adhering to out-dated Communist policies
Like a leper clinging to an old blanket wrapped around his head
My mother was sacred to me and I still hear her voice at night
As she tells me I tasted like old cigars
I am not sure if she meant I smelled like freedom
Or if she feared I would turn into a dis-gruntled Ex-Castro politico
Or did she have a perverse pleasure in licking my skin
Because I was the only source of stability
In her cold forlorn world
Never seeing my father left behind in the jail of
A dis-gruntled Ex-Castro politico

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