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No One Mourns the Wicked · Poetry Minific ·
Organised by Anon Y Mous
Word limit 15–1000
Show rules for this event
I Can't Wait Till Morrissey Fucking Dies
When it gets too late at night,
I think about Morrissey,
and of how he ought to choke
on a gallon of horse pee.
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#1 · 1
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Someone has an ax to grind...

I wonder if this is inspired by a recent pony feature box topper. I've also been laboring under the delusion for years now that Morrissey is a lot older than he actually is and that he tragically died decades ago, and return to that impression even after repeatedly learning he's alive and well. Maybe I unconsciously share your pain?

As poetry, eh, I don't know that being poetry does it any favors, since there's no structure and I don't get anything from the decision of where to place line breaks. But then I'm betting you didn't care about that.
#2 · 1
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My biggest problem here:

Is that I have almost no idea who Morrissey is. A once-popular singer, I vaguely know--I couldn't tell you the name of any of his songs--who's been mentioned again recently because he's taken to saying stupid things, though I couldn't tell you waht any of those stupid things are, either. So I'm not at all the audience for this, I'm afraid...

Mike
#3 ·
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I like his music. I dislike his racism. I suspect choking on a gallon of horse pee is a disproportionate punishment, but I'm willing to entertain the notion. I think you've matched the prompt well enough. He'll have diehard fans when he goes, but many will not mourn his loss, and may even welcome it.
#4 · 1
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Steven Patrick Morrissey
Found fame and a forum, so in chorus, he
Gave out with unpopular frankness
That caused this work's dankness.