For many years, I wrote poetry. Tons and tons of poetry, so much that it filled several notebooks. Some of it was pretty decent, some of it was OK, but most of it was self-pitying tripe. The words that every writer's friend dreads are "I wrote a poem, can you tell me what you think of it?", so with that in mind, here's what I consider the worst poem I've ever written. I don't know what I was trying to accomplish with writing it, all I know is that when I read it again, I couldn't help but smile.
Delicious thick red seedy jam
Running down my thighs
Open wide, baby.
Four kinds of syrup
Uterus, eggs, blood, and love.
Hungry? Why wait?
And on the menu, my baby batter
Mixing with your eggs, in a pre-heated oven
And yet, it still kicks the living shit out of anything William Carlos Williams has ever written.