stinky

Very Bad Poetry, as the name of the journal would suggest, publishes very bad poetry — but if the intent is to write a bad poem, and that intent is met, does it not become a good poem? Or maybe the poems are indeed bad, yet rendered aesthetically effective by the journal’s conceit? Maybe the journal is simply bad as are the poems. Or maybe the journal is great and so are the poems. It is impossible for the journal to be good and the poems to be bad, and it is impossible for the journal to be bad and the poems to be good. For those who question my authority on the subject of impossibility, may I remind you that I cannot fly.