Bad Poetry: Colonel I. J. Brittain

Colonel I. J. Brittain of Salem, North Carolina was a Confederate soldier, a beekeeper, a publisher, and entrepreneur, and, last but not least, a poet. Here's an excerpt from one of his gems, published in Brittain's Poems:

from The Tragedy of Ida Ball Warren and Samuel Christie

This is a true story about the consequences of an illicit love affair

There was a woman lived in Winston-Salem,

She was beautiful and meek,

She helped to murder her husband,

Who was found in Muddy Creek.

...

He [Christie] conducted with great propriety,

They thought that he meant no harm,

He went to a neighboring druggist

And procured chloroform.

They administered it to Warren,

Put a noose around his neck.

They choked him quite to death.

As we all do expect.

And when the breath had left him,

He was nothing but common junk,

They doubled him up as best they could

And put him in a trunk.

...

He [Christie] took the corpse from the trunk,

He beat his face to a pulp,

Tied weights to his arms and legs,

And tumbled him into the gulf.

...

A fisherman went up the stream,

He thought he saw a root,

On closer investigation

He saw it was a human foot.

And people nowadays complain about rap music!