Very Bad Poetry

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It's difficult to understand how, in this age of information, poems that merely miss the mark can be tossed into the cold world to fend for themselves, only to whither and be forgotten.

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Poem 1959

Very Bad Archive

She My Heater

Robert Hawkins

I love her just don't want to be next to her in bed.
Like trying to sleep next to a open-flame Bar-B-Que pit.
Sex, oh she is great otherwise she produces to much heat.
I'm laying next there she scrunches up?
Her tit's like red hot pokers upon my back.
Her breathe napalm on my neck.
I roll any futher away I'll be on the floor.
Try to work up a fart tempoary soultion for a gap.
But I fear her body heat it might ignite.
Knowing her she would only feel free to fart back.
What I call a flame and gas attack.
So I piss in the in the bed she rolls away.
Better sleeping in cold piss than scorched back.
Her bush was chaffing my sweet tender ass.
Nipples like propane torch.
Go figure?
She pronounced me a lousy lay that I'm wet and stink.
-----
bobby

Note; That is the reason.
I show up for dates.
Wearing only a jock-strap.
All in the equation.
I get more jail time.
Than dates. (lol)

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

Ask Yourself

Submitted Jun 21st 2011, 18:21

Liken Mind

Submitted Jun 21st 2011, 16:29

Then What About You

Submitted Jun 13th 2011, 20:51