Monday, August 6, 2012

2012 Finalists - Vote Now!

The judges have decided! Here at last are the three finalists from this year's run of the best in bad prose and poetry. Thank you to everyone who took up the challenge and sent us their cleverly contrived entries - we certainly had a lot of fun reading them and hope you did too - all entries are posted below. Congratulations to our two finalists, the pseudonymous "Sam N. Cook" and Lee Goodman for entering into the spirit of the occasion so well. And thank you to our two judges, Nancy Lord and Bill Sherwonit, who graciously reprised their roles as Alaska's arbiters of tongue-in-cheek literary bad taste.

We have been unable to set up a poll link, so please email your choice to All voting will be held in strictest confidence.  Results will be announced here and on the 49 Writers blog on Monday, August 13.


One fish, two fish, red fish, more red fish
By “Sam N. Cook”

Cooler of blue
salmon of red
Now they’re alive,
soon they’ll be dead.

Blood lust be howlin’
under the clouds
Our neighboring netters
are boisterous and loud.

It’s not yet eleven
but that one dude is drunk
and hollering at me
to come check out his trunk

full of fish I should envy
but I cannot go near
‘cuz it’s way too early
to smell that much beer.

Veering away
toward my friends and our nets
How is it possible,
I think with regret,

twenty years an Alaskan
but first time dipnetting.
It’s a regional ritual
I’m finally getting.

An hour and a half and
we’re already done
with ten fish for the two of us.
But the fun’s just begun.

Did I mention I did not
grow up around fish,
nor gutting, nor cleaning,
and hours later I wish

we had just stopped at five.
But we’re not that bright,
so we two first-timers
were up late that night.

Would I do it again?
In a heartbeat I’m thinking,
but next time around,
I too will be drinking.


Ode to a Dead Salmon 1
By Lee Goodman

A salmon that rots in the silt
Is like Onan whose seed would soon wilt.
Onan wanted no lads,
But the fish wanted scads,
So into the silt both spilt milt.


Ode to a Dead Salmon 2
By Lee Goodman

I love salmon, I said with a smile,
Not knowing this fish had turned vile
So appetite whetted,
I ate what was fetid
And barfed till I only had bile.


No comments:

Post a Comment