Vogon poetry is of course the third worst in the Universe. The second worst it that of the Azgoths of Kria. During a recitation by their Poet Master Grunthos the Flatulent of his poem "Ode to a Small Lump of Green Putty I Found in My Armpit Once Midsummer Morning" four of his audience died of internal hemorrhaging, and the President of the Mid-Galactic Arts Nobbling Council survived by gnawing one of his own legs off. Grunthos is reported to have been "disappointed" by the poem's reception, and was about to embark on a reading of his twelve-book epic entitled My Favorite Bathtime Gurgles when his own major intestine, in a desperate attempt to save life and civilization, leaped straight up through his neck and throttled his brain.
The very worst poetry of all perished along with its creator, Paula Naney Millstone Jennings of Greenbridge, Essex, England, in the destruction of the planet Earth.
This post is going to be very brief. I need to leave my house in about ten minutes to lead a poetry workshop this evening. I've been planning and preparing for a few days. Did some last-minute tweaks this afternoon (which are different from last minute twerks). I think I'm ready.
Often, I worry that I will replace Paula Naney Millstone Jennings as the worst poet in the Universe. I have been going through a little bit of a dry spell recently. First there was teaching. Then the closure of the medical office where I worked. Then the whole campaign for Poet Laureate of the Upper Peninsula. I simply haven't had a whole lot of time to sit down with my journal and pen.
Saint Marty is hoping to come up with some good rough drafts this evening.
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