Milo's Page of Bad Litterature

Statement of Purpose

Milo's Page of Bad Litterature is a non-profit webpage designed to show the depths of human litterature. The page's actual intent is to show how good great literature is, by providing examples of how badly the writing medium can be abused. This page will also serve as a memorial for the trees that were cut down, massacred, martyred, and sacrificed for an unjust cause - the creation of bad litterature.

Rules Governing Submissions

Works must be original submissions. Submissions more appropriate for "Fred's Page of Bad Language" will not be printed.

Criteria

Based on the judgments of the editors of this page, bad litterature can have or be one or more of the following:

Heaps of Pretentiousness

Craploads of Sentimentality

Graven Injustices to the Art of Rhyming

Clumps of Randomness and Disorganization

Unintentional and Humorous Mistakes in Syntax, Grammar, Spelling, and Punctuation

Nonsensical Arguments and Reasoning

Horrible Insults to Established Literary Forms (i.e. Vomit Haiku)

Suggestions

These are some of the possible sources of Bad Litterature. Creativity in finding and producing bad litterature is encouraged.

Awful Diary Entries

'F' School Papers Done the Night Before

Love Poetry that Hallmark would Reject

Where to Send Submissions

The first submission:

Untitled

The loon is dim,

Oh so dim,

Dim it was,

Was the loon.

- Mr. K.

The second submission:

Suicidal Snowflakes

Oh, why do they jump?

When the ground is much too warm
to insure their safe landing,
I cannot come to term
with their sacrificial understanding.

Perhaps spited by a lover...
but why do they leap?
On clouds they do hover,
with a promise of Death they do keep.

Do they have low self-esteem?
But "Every snowflake's unique."
But they still believe they're ugly,
and they think my argument is weak.

Slow and mournful they plunge
to the death they have planned,
waiting to save them I lunge,
and they melt in my hand.

As they liquefy and die,
I bend and lend my ear.
No last words I hear,
As they mix among my tear.

They die for no reason
for not even school is delayed,
falling out of season ---
No school kids they will aid.

For at least when I made snowballs
and used them to whack my sister's head,
Their lives had had a purpose,
before they melted and were dead.

And even when I was young,
I decided to quit eating snow.
Because even if no one was looking,
I knew the Snow God would know.

He watches our crazy dances
to turn the ground white.
For then I have more faith in my chances,
because the weatherman's never right.

Innocent virgins they all are,
for they all wear white.
(Except for the one's dressed in yellow,
they never tasted right.)

Why, Snow God, do you let your children die?
Are they masochistic and like to feel pain?
Or do they fall out of the sky because of ignorance,
thinking they're drops of rain?

A silent death they suffer
upon the city streets.
I wish they were a bit tougher,
or learned to land on their feets.

What cruel God art thou, with many sacrifices a year?
But what --- what is that I hear?
The snowflakes aren't dying at all you say?
The Water Cycle is The Way?

So... they're not Christian at all
Or even slightly Jewish?
Buddhist reincarnation they believe in?
I never even knew-ish.

So a snowflake suicide
is just a step on the Lotus path?
And it's just a matter of karma,
and not some evil god's wrath?

Well never mind then, I guess,
I can stop waiting for the Frosty Messiah,
and every snow angel I make will now be a Snow Buddha,
From now on until I die-ah.

- The Anonyhippopotamous

The third submission:

An Orgasm is Like a Sneeze

Forest gump had some hair
meter ladies do their hair
i like to make them rhyme
the same word twice is a rhyme

Mr. K.

Souls have been Unlightened.

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