Bad Poem

By John I. Blair

This poem doesn’t work.
The thought’s dorky,
The rhyme’s iffy,
The rhythm sucks.

Two years I’ve tried,
Massaged it till it squishes,
Concluded
That it isn’t worth my time.

So I’ve decided
To disassemble all,
Erase what I have writ,
Put a stop.

Each word I’ll re-stick
In its lexiconic slot
For reuse another day
When I’ve more than squat to say.

©2007 John I. Blair