Bad Poetry

What is bad poetry?

A stanza that doesn’t conform

To iambic pentameter?

Lines that don’t rhyme?

Is it prose that goes on and on

Like a Kansas highway?

Dramatic excerpts that… stop and…

Start… Herky-jerky

Well, guess what… Life is bad poetry.

Life doesn’t conform to a certain set of rules set forth by any mortal man.

People’s lives don’t always rhyme with each other.

Yes, and sometimes, in the doldrums of our existence,

Life just seems to go on and on like a desert highway.

Life is filled with little dramatic excerpts,

Seemingly from someone else’s life,

Making our own life a surreal noir fantasy.

One life stops. Others keep going.

There are moments that make us feel like life didn’t start

Until our epiphany revealed itself.

Herks and jerks are going to get in our way…

But life goes on… with or without us.

I believe that it’s the things that don’t fit exactly how we expect them to;

It’s the lines that don’t rhyme;

Certainly the dramatic excerpts;

But also the long and lonely roads

And yes, even the herks and jerks;

It’s bad poetry that makes life interesting.