I want to wipe the sin off me—that’s what I think.
Too many people turning inside me. Too much time. If only I could wipe off the sin. So many years of living, and all of that sin sticking to me: broken vows, corruption, anger, sloth. If I could wipe off the sin I could, I feel, believe again.
In the month of March, which is a tough month because it is the end of winter and winter is bad, I discovered, in a file on my computer, 36 bad poems that I had written in 2017. I had no memory of writing these poems but I thought that they were good and I wanted to write more of them. I thought I would do 200, after Anthony Clark (who invented the 200 bad comics challenge a million years ago). To make it harder I said I would do them in two weeks. I almost did that but I did not thanks to a stressful trip that I took in the middle of this journey. Anyway, they have already been posted on this website, but here are all 200 poems I wrote in March together with the initial 36.
too sad to think I am too sad but I am writing poems poems don’t need thought
a poem about economic insecurity economic insecurity sucks there’s a moth always crushing your brain
tips for managing yr workload throw your task list into the garbage can no one will ever notice
a crisis for office managers dave said he couldn’t work Thursday but shirley booked Thursday off well, someone needs to be here