The White Shoe Irregular:
It was fun while it lasted.

Three Intentionally Bad Bitter Poems (best when read aloud)

Greg Taylor

Oh tender heart
tenderized, by the spiky
meat tenderizer of utter rejection

Oh lonely heart
made lonely by the vast black
emptiness of a woman's soul

Oh bitter heart
embittered by the bitter bile
of lies that spew from the woman's mouth

Pain, oh pain — that pierces, parts, and perforates
the tender emotion of the trusting man's hopeful love
Woman, oh woman — the tool that stabs,
and slices and divides asunder the unsuspecting victim's heart

Pain, oh pain — that burns and stings and remains,
coating the inner lining of the soul, ever eating, like an ulcer Woman, oh woman — the persuasive pill that promises
prosperity, but delivers only the boiling fever of death

Dark, dark the night that presses on my soul,
That crushes, squeezes, pulps my ability to love.
My trust, expecting the brilliant day of reciprocation,
Blinded instead by unseen sands.

Cold, cold the empty edge of your steel emotion
Mashing, piercing, breaking the porcelain of my feeling.
My trust, reaching out from the abyss of loneliness,
Your hand retracts, you laughing.

Vast, vast the expanse of your capacity for cruelty.
It rends, rips and reveals the raw innards of my pride.
My trust, freely given to you, laid on the altar of humility —
The saving angel never came.