Out of Sorts

Because I have to write poems for my creative writing class, and because I suck at them so badly, I’m offering them up for mass consumption. They will never, ever be published anywhere respectable, so instead, I publish them here.

Here is my final poem I wrote for the class. Yes, in a sense I just did that whole, “Omg, this milk tastes like it’s gone sour, here, try it!” trick.

Enjoy the rancid words!

—-

The Sister Grimm

The pigs have flown away

With their stumpy silver wings as I stare

In mirth, in horror, in

Disbelief and covered in shit

I had this power all along.

The wolf had nearly won with his blow-hard

Antics and toothless bite

Keeping me prisoner in my own dying garden

Yet in the midst of winter

A single blooming crimson

reminded me of

me

To mourn my phoenix was both

Premature and pointless for I burst

From my cell like a virus hell bent on

Destroying the world or at least you and

Your poisoned apple

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