I am trying to be helpful, because I want to rehabilitate my reputation, so I have invented a new form of poetry. Many people would like to be poets, and the fact is that the world at present has a shining abundance of people who are very good at every aspect of being a poet - the faraway gaze when mundane worldly matters are being discussed, the willingness to make statements about how modern relationships work, candles all over the place, frequent use of meaningful glances that are intended to be rich with implication - everything you'd expect from a classic poet, other than the actual production of good poetry.

Well, in helpful fashion, because I am not such a bad guy, I have chosen to blame form for the lack of good poetry. I mean, shit. Sonnets are all fine and good, but who has that kind of time any more? A, B and C? This is the age of efficiency. C gets spun off into its own poem at the first hint of marketability. And some jerk starts yapping about villanelles, all I got to say is, look, I have a mortgage to think about. (I do not have a mortgage, but I am claiming that I do, in order to appear as a sympathetic, proletarian character.) If function is to follow form, and the function has not functioned, then form must be held liable.

Okay. Clear your mind. Think about clouds or something. Then, read this:

ODE TO A SANDWICH

Sandwich
Sandwich, sandwich
Where the fuck are you
Sandwich

Beautiful, right? I mean, that guy wants a sandwich. I can relate to that. (I wrote it, but still.) Now, since it is a beautiful poem, everyone who read it probably assumed that I spent several weeks working on it. Let me tell you a secret: I wrote it really quickly. Don't tell the Norton Anthology, but I pretty much wrote it as I typed it. You probably think I got lucky. Fine. Watch me do it again:

ODE TO THE FAT GUY BOWLING

Fat guy bowling
Fat guy bowling, fat guy bowling
God damn, he got four strikes in a row
Fat guy bowling

No, that wasn't an excerpt from The Odyssey, nor was it Tennyson in Arthurian mode. I totally just wrote it. Doesn't it say something about where we are, as human beings, in this space and time? Doesn't that truth extend beyond the words, into the very genetic makeup of the poem itself? Welcome, gentle readers. Welcome to the Complaintet. Here is how it is done:

TITLES

For many unfortunate poets, titles are like premature ejaculation. They come up with something really loaded, really promising, and the poem never lives up to it. Fuck it. The title is an ode to whatever the poem is about. That way the reader knows where you're going, and they can decide, Okay, I would like to read a poem about food, where can I find one? There's one. Cheers.

THE BODY OF THE POEM

The first line is a single word or short phrase. It is the topic of your poem.

Valentine's Day

That lets the reader know that the title matches the poem, that there wasn't some filing mistake where the poem about buildings wound up with the title of a poem about sex. Then, the second line repeats the first line twice. Repetition is powerful. It places emphasis on what was said before and creates a sense of urgency.

Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day

The third line bares your soul. It must contain either the word 'fuck' or the phrase 'God damn'. Both are very intense things to say.

Wearing a brown paper bag over my god damn head

The fourth line repeats the second line, except cut in half, so it's only once. This is very poignant. The reader must now reconsider the topic in light of what you have said in the poem.

Valentine's Day

If you are reading the poem out loud, you get all quiet at that point.

Let's see all the pieces put together:

ODE TO VALENTINE'S DAY

Valentine's Day
Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day
Wearing a brown paper bag over my god damn head
Valentine's Day

Well. I think that speaks for itself. Poetry lives again. I hope you enjoy the complaintet and have success using it to communicate something true about yourself to the world. I have written 834 complaintets today alone.

MUST SHIT RHYME?

Oh, sure. The first, second and fourth lines should rhyme.