A Winner of the Baddest Kind

So last week I entered literary agent, Chip MacGregor's, BAD POETRY CONTEST. Hey...I started out writing poetry, have written some pretty GOOD poetry, if I do say so myself, and I thought I'd rise to the challenge of writing some BAD poetry for a change. It was fun, and I have to say not much of a challenge. The words just poured out of me in about five minutes, flat. Don't really know whether or not that's a good thing.

Unfortunately, I didn't take the grand prize of a genuine copy (do they really have fake copies circulating?) of Does God Speak through Cats? That coveted prize goes to Holly MacGregor, Chip's daughter-in-law, for a poem she wrote in high school (man, I should have dug out some of MY old stuff. Shudder). But... I did take the ribbon for WORST IMAGE poem. Here's what Chip had to say (and the fact that he spelled my name wrong has nothing to do with his writing ability):

This year's WORST IMAGE ribbon goes to Linda Shab's Snot Bubbles and Tears, which left me reaching for a kleenex...

Snot Bubbles and Tears…

Where are you?
My phone doesn’t ring
The doorbell doesn’t chime.
My lips can’t sing.
I’m a mime.
Just a mime.
But my heart cries out!
The snot bubbles ooze from the chambers.
They mix with my tears -
Enough to drown me.
But that’s probably what you want….
Right?
I thought we had something special.
But I guess I was wrong.
So wrong.
What will I do now?
I’ll sit in sorrow
Until tomorrow.
Then I’ll get up and move on
With my empty life.
If the snot bubbles and tears don’t drown me first.

Wow. As bad poetry goes, that is a winner.

Thanks, Chip. I'm so choked up over this award. I feel a snot-bubble beginning to form right now. Excuse me...sniff...sniff...pop! Pop!