April 27, 2005
Life Is a Labyrinth on
Life Is a Labyrinth on a Roller Coaster, or So We’re Told
As has been widely reported throughout the “weblogosphere,? we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,? have been accepting submissions for our Second Annual Horrible College-Student Poetry Competition, the details of which you can find here.Unsurprisingly, dear reader, our e-mailbox has been chalk-a-block with submissions. In fact, we’ve received so many entries that our official contest judge, Anonymous, has required the help of his long-time associate, Unknown. The two grand old men of the poetry world have been poring over more feculent balladry than you can shake a troche at. Or something.
Yet we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,? long for even more entries. As such, we want to warn you that the May 1st deadline will soon be upon us. Time, like your first wife, is running out.
And thus we have decided to use this humble installment of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly? to drum up some more submissions. Accordingly, dearest of dear readers, we have happened upon the work of the erstwhile high-schooler Alicia Bugg.
Ms. Bugg, for those you unaware of her oeuvre, was a 2000 graduate of Glenwood High School, which is somewhere in God-forsaken Illinois. A correspondent from our God-forsaken (IL) office sent us a copy of her delightful poem, which is titled “Untitled.? It’s not exactly a locus classicus of sub-par versification. But it’s a start.
Untitled by Alicia Bugg, Glenwood High School (2000)
Children
Just children
What did I expect
Trying to find
My way
Your way
Anyway [sic]
Through this world
So why should you stop
To care about me?
What’s in it for you?
It isn’t fair
How can I know
Why you change
Blissful, Blithesome
Bitter, Belittled
You think you’ve
Got them figured out
One step forward
Then two backward
Life is a labyrinth
On a roller coaster
I’m not responsible for you
I can always leave
But I won’t
I can’t because I care
I can’t help it
I just wish you knew
It’s a ridiculous concept
And everyone’s laughing
But me
Well, Ms. Bugg, we can’t speak for anyone else, but we know that we’re laughing. In fact, we’re laughing hard enough for a few other people. We haven’t chortled so much since Yassir Arafat won the Nobel Piece (of Israel) Prize.
And frankly, dear reader, Ms. Bugg's “Untitled,? although far from a masterpiece of poetic juvenilia, has a few of the correct ingredients. It’s replete with vapid clichés, and Ms. Bugg seems to be under the unfortunate impression that life just doesn’t get more difficult than 10th grade.
Ah, yes: Homeroom’s a bitch, isn’t it, Ms. Tick? Too bad you aren’t lucky enough to be a coal miner.
Still, dear reader, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,? believe that the poem could be a bit more dreadful. After all, where’s the mindless political shibboleths? Perhaps Ms. Bugg added them in college.
So, dear reader, think that you can do better? We humbly invite you to send in a poem for our competition. Simply click the “Contact Us? link at the top right-hand corner of your computer screen.
