Howdy, young’uns. This here be the Terrible Poetry Contest. We been hostin’ y’all fer 55 rounds now.
If’n yer not sure a’ yerself, click here. Bad poetry’s about as tricky as kissin’ an ornery donkey that may jest be yer mother-in-law.
Here are yer ‘pecifics:
- I hear tell the Topic‘s a folk song ’bout heaven. You done heard ’bout “The Big Rock Candy Mountain?” Sing me where yer moun’ain is an’ where you’d be.
- I ain’t got all day, so’s a good verse an’ chorus’ll do me fer Length.
- And then there’s that Rhymin‘ business. You go’n ahead and do it if’n it’s there in yer heaven.
- I say to Make it terrible. Me an’ my boys will ‘termine to add you to our Mulligan Stew soon’s we hear it sung.
- Now, son: yer idea a’ the hereafter may just include some things more sensitive types shouldn’a read. Keep things under the PG belt, if’n you can.
You have till 8:00 a.m. MST next Friday (January 24, 2020) to submit a poem.
Use the form b’low to keep things a secret.
To share all ’round, go ‘head an’ post in those there comments. Let the judge know if’n you don’ see a pingback after sundown.
Y’all have fun now, ya hear!