Week 3 of April’s Shitty Poetry Month presents some truly inspired awfulness from Ada Hoffmann, Geoffrey A. Landis, J.Y.T. Kennedy, Brett Savory and Daniel Parker Lee, and Kari Maaren!
Featured Book Challenge: All of the poems this week were inspired by a ChiZine Publications book series. Can you name the title(s)? Share the correct book title(s) on the ChiZine Publications Facebook Page and enter for a chance to win the ebook of this week’s featured book, plus its prequel (hint, hint)!
(If you're not on Facebook, feel free to leave your winning guess in the comments below!)
Let the good shit be yours!
. . . Because Why the Hell Not
Dead hands know endless patience. Fall,
the kata, same as spring.
No shift of weight; no rush of breath.
You'll never hear a thing.
(Until they make a sharp-eyed lady
scream in Aisle Thirteen.)
Dead lips don't thirst; dead hearts don't fear
the widow-making foam.
There's only gold and war (and brains)
wherever dead ships roam.
(They're pillaging the freezer!
Get Security on the phone.)
And it's yo, ho, ho, me boys!
Shamble like the brave!—
And it's sharp, swift, shadowed
In the silence of the grave—
(And it's up to us to mop
The bloody mess the zombies made.)
Geoffrey A. Landis.
Ode to My Lover's Small Intestine
O, whilst lesser poets exclaim in ecstasy rhapsodie
about the other organs, declaiming dactyls dedicated to the
loveliness of their beloved's eyelashes, or the delicate flutter
of the heart, yet, I must extol...