Why I Hate Poetry

I hate poetry because I think to write it, you need at least two drinks. And when you read it and try to blink you’ll lose your trail of thought and that stinks!

I’d rather use math for calculating trains and bullets and balls colliding versus counting syllables, hoping they match iambic penta-something.

I never did get why people write a thousand lines to describe a fight:

Achilles, the hero, ducketh right and saveth the maiden from her plight.

Okay. That was lame. But also true. This Homer guy didn’t have a clue. Too bad, he had nothing else to do but write stuff to torture me and you.

And Shakespeare, my dear, I am not a fan of the way you twist your words around. You may have fooled almost everyone but you didn’t fool this famous man.

So what poem, exactly, works for me? Why, one that’s written by yours truly! (But the best-est kind of poetry is one you’ve just read but didn’t see.)

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