Back in the 90's, I had a hobby of following my friends around at clubs and making them write bad poetry for me. The word poetry was used very loosely. Well, completely incorrectly would be a better term since it was also used for articles, completely fabricated self-help columns and random complete and utter nonsense.
These are the results of those (often drunken) ramblings.

Monday, June 21, 2010

Phase One is complete

Okay, so I'm done uploading the first issue. That is to say, I'm done with the poetry. Now I need to go back and scan all the pages so I can post the "artwork". I also want to add more comments and whatever anecdotes I can come up with about the issue. Oh, and I'm working on digitally enhancing some of the illustrations, just to bring a bit of color to the blog. But don't worry, I'm making sure to keep it in the spirit of crapulence that the zine was created. I figure, if I am to bring The Hiroshima Club into the new millennium, there is nothing more appropriate than bad Photoshop.


Sunday, June 20, 2010


Ah, the classified! I think this was one of my favorite sections because it seems so blindly optimistic. We had all these fake classified for all this ridiculous projects like if there was ever a demand for any of this stuff.
Of course, nobody ever contacted us to order any of these things, but maybe we just didn't have a broad enough audience. Which brings me to my new hobby. I'm thinking of posting some of these on Craigslist and to what kind of responses we get and post them here. So stay tuned for that!

Come to Begly

Personalized erotic poetry wanted. Write to me. Tell me how much you want me and what you will do to me…
Contact Begly
(address deleted)
Miami, Fl
Don’t forget the KamaSutra oil of love.

The first insane thing about this is that Begly posted her actual real address. The second crazy thing is that we let her. We weren't even being bitches about it, we were honestly that innocent back then. Now all I can think about is how glad I am so pervert didn't show up at her house and show her in person what he wanted to do with her.

Do you suck or what?

Are you constantly wondering if your band is good enough to make it? Do you not believe your friends when they say they really like your new song? Do you just not trust anyone?
Then just send a demo to Patty.
I’ll really tell you if you suck or not. I won’t mind. I’ll enjoy it. I’m a bitch in the music business.
(address deleted)
Miami, Fl

I think this one has the most potential from illiciting responses from people who actually get the joke.

My personal supernatural experiences
For your very own! Free copy!
Please send $2 for shipping and handling to “it’s my story”
(address deleted)
Miami, Fl

This one is Nancy's. She used to have a ghost at her old place. I keep forgetting to ask her if it's still around.

True story:
One night we were hanging out at her place and all of a sudden the dogs start barking at an empty corner of the room and then the baby (who is 20 now, OMG) crawled to where the dogs were and was staring at that corner too. I wish I could say the walls started bleeding or something, but nothing really happened. It was freaky at the time though.

Do you have body piercing stories to tell?
Then write to Jenna
(address deleted)
Miami, Fl

This was back before we realized this is every single piercing story ever:
I had something that was not pierced. I pierced it. It got infected. It got better.

It’s a lesbian thang!
Necklaces, pendants, t-shirts, stationery, etc.
Free catalogue!
Just send SASE to
(address deleted)
Miami, Fl

There never was any catalog, so I guess it's a good thing nobody ever sent out for one.

Suggestions to Lord Weird
(address deleted)
God cannot contain the filth that plagues his realm. Steal it for the pages of the chaos engine and commit your darkness to the parchment, in blood

This one was one of those rare ones from someone who was actually serious about it. Lord Weird was someone else who had their own zine and agreed exchange ads.

Never eat another cow again!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Send $1 for tofu recipes to
Tofu Recipes
(address deleted)
Miami, Fl

Who would have thought back then Monica would actually grow up to be a chef?

Cum to me

By Monica

I want to please

Big Daddy Butthead

Oh Daddy come to me

Love me, have me

Let me touch you

Make me feel like a woman

I love you Big Daddy Butthead

Just a little farmer boy

Let me choke your chicken

Oh Big Daddy Butthead

I dunno about this title...if it shows up in searches, I think it's going to bring some people to the blog who are going to be extremely disappointed when they see the actual content. Then again, I can't picture any kind of person who would not be disappointed by our content.

This is a great rendition of Butthead I did here. I realize it's not really that much of an accomplishment, but have you looked at some of our other drawings?


By Monica

Tofu, tofu, tofu
So smelly and gross
Tofu, tofu, tofu
I want you for lunch

By Monica

I was always confused by this one because I never thought tofu smelled particularly bad. To be honest I don't really know if it smells like anything. I mean, I have never really held raw tofu to my nose and sniffed it, but if it doesn't smell bad enough that I can tell when I open the package, I think we're okay.

I would like to point out how tofu is just a featureless rectangle and yet we still managed to fuck up the illustration.

Wednesday, June 16, 2010


By Patty

Hello? Hello?
Answer the phone
You better answer this time
I’m sick of talking to your
Mother every time I call
Where are you?
Damn it!
This is the last time
I call you
No, I’m not obsessed!
But I love you.

I don't really remember who this Ernie was, but I think he might have been gay. I don't want to give too many spoilers, but I think there is a poem coming up complaining about some guy being gay that might be him.
That seems to be a big problem for young girls before they get old enough to develop proper gaydar. I blame the popularity on Twilight on that. I mean seriously, glittery boys only make good boyfriends to other boys.


By Patty

Babies, babies
Crying, whining
Babies, babies
Throwing, growing
Babies, babies
Vomiting, plummeting
Me to my death
Babies, babies
I don’t want them.

I guess the lessson we have to learn here is you should never let Patty babysit. I'm not that worried about her hatred of babies as much as her inability to prevent being murdered by one. I myself can take any baby down in a fight single-handedly.


By Patty

I slowly open m bedroom door. open
Slowly, quietly so I won’t wake
them up. I creep into my bed and cover
Myself not exposing any vulnerable
Parts for potential biting, sucking…
Who knows?
I close my eyes but can’t sleep, the
Rustling in the closet and the
Groaning under my bed makes my mind go
Wild. What is going on out there?
Are there other children held hostage
Taken from their homes, am I the next
Are people getting tortured, maimed
Killed…or are they having sex
Against their will? Being put into
Positions they never thought they
Could endure?
Maybe I’ll open the closet door
Tonite. Monsters don’t sound bad
After all.

It seems if there is one running theme throughout all these so called poems, is the weird way all the lines are cut with no regard to sentences. I'm pretty sure we were just going by whatever looked the closest to a square when we were typing it and nothing to do with how it should be read or what was grammatically correct.

The drawings were done by me and it looks like the doodles I would draw in class. I kinda like it. I think I might try to color it like I did with the sheep one and Begly.

My Little Spider

By Nancy

My little spider

Nailed to my wall

My little spider

That scares them all

You are only plastic

But you do the job

My grandmother thinks I’m a slob

“Don’t decorate your

Bathroom like that”

What does she know?

She’s an old bat.

It’s my spider

And my bathroom too

So I will nail anything

I want to the wall

Wouldn’t you?

As most of Nancy's poetry, this one is based on a true story.


By Jenna

Some kill on purpose
Some kill for fun
Some kill for free
Others get paid a ton
If you are someone
That won’t kill for free
Then you better go away
And let the other killers be

A lot of our poems seem to have involved killers, killing...getting killed, not so much. we were angry young people.

No idea what the bats have to do with anything other than I like drawing them. Those are supposed to be bats, BTW.

Friday, June 11, 2010

Waiting for Mario’s band to play late one Tuesday evening

By (me?)
I didn't sign it, but I'm pretty sure it must have been me

Bored, bored, bored
Time passes
By, by, by
Nothing ever happens here
Might as well
Die, die, die
Get off the stage
You boring band
I came to see my friend play
You’re wasting my time

An Ode to Chris Cornell

By Aralis and Patty


You sacrilegious beauty

I would do you

Even though you look like Jesus

I bet you would look

Really good

Tied up to a stick

Wearing nothing but a loincloth

I wouldn’t nail you

But you can nail me anytime

I am willing to risk

My mortal soul

To have you

I will confess all my sins

And do whatever penance

You choose

I will eat you

I will drink you

And be one with you


The funny thing is, I never even liked Chris Cornell. Or Soundgarden for that matter.

You know the only reason that there isn't a really sacrilegious illustration to go with this is that nobody could successfully draw a naked man. Not an attractive one anyway.


By Nancy

Come here Keanu
I am right here
And I want you to molest you

I could be wrong, but I don't think this is really a haiku. It's OK, none of our odes were odes either, so it's in keeping with our format of inaccuracy.

UPDATE: I looked up the definition of Haiku, but it was unessesarily complicated and I got bored, but I think I got enough information to say I was right the first time about it being wrong.

To Kurt

By Stephanie

You are so pretty

With that hole in your head

Why can’t you love me?

Now that you’re dead

Well, at least this solves the mystery as to what year was it that we published the first issue.

This one didn't have an accompaning illustration. You're welcome.

Ode to Sheep

By Stephanie

The mysteries of sheep
Are known to an exclusive club
We all know what is special
About our furry love
The exquisite downy fur
A carnival to stroke
My words for that sweet mammal
So deep I can but choke
For nothing I can say
To deride my woolen friend
To be by a sheep’s side
And fuck him in his end.

I don't think I'm exaggerating when I say this is the best poem ever. And it has an illustration too!

Ug..... I don't know what happened there, it was right side up when I uploaded it. It's 2am, I'll fix it later. you get the gist.

Tuesday, June 8, 2010

Ode to a Tortured Man

By Stephanie


Delicious piece of manhood


You asexual dude

You know I could be

The only one for you

Let me drown myself

In your painfully

Handsome sorrow

You see

You hear

You feel

My pain

The only one who knows


In a scrumptious man


It's hard to pick whats better, the poem or the picture. This is one of those rare occasions when I think it was actually good. And that picture - i looks EXACTLY like Morrissey! I bet you would have know it was Morrissey even if you didn't read the poem.


By Jade Payne

She’s finger licking good

She melts in my mouth

And my hands

Wanting to dive into her muff

Right now

Sticking my tongue down her throat

Traumatized I am,

As I discover

I am only dreaming!!!!!!

This one came with a beautiful illustration that I need to scan ASAP. I also think this might have been a companion piece to the Zima one I just posted.

It’s a Clear Beverage

By: Monica

Michelle, oh poor Michelle
On the public phone you are
So lonely and bored
Drinking a Zima by the side of the store
With a pain in her back that just won’t stop
Telling me about work
The black girl was beautiful yummy and fine
Sipping her Zima and smoking her cigarettes
She sits all night by the phone and
Talks to all.

Do they even make Zima anymore? Poor Zima always gets made fun of. I think I remember it not tasting that bad.

The Ex-GF

The ex-girlfriend

(Ode to W)

By: Monica

Die bitch die, I want you to die

In the most painful way possible

I want to beat you with a baseball bat

I want to beat you till you die

You’re a good for nothing shit and you will die

With a baseball bat in your eye.

It's a Lesbian Thang!

The next three poems were on a page titled It's a Lesbian Thang!
I guess it must have been our gay section of the the zine.

Friday, June 4, 2010

Fate #2

By: Nancy
If you had a friend die in a
Plane crash
Live with it
If your legs get chopped off in
An auto accident
Deal with it
All things happen for a reason
Who the fuck are you
To screw around with fate?

I like to think of this one as the poetry equivalent of Final Destination.


By: Patty

Out there in the mist of darkness

Looking amongst thousands of faceless

Insignificant strangers there is one

Person that stands out from all the


Is empty, missing your other half you

Can’t clap, play baseball, swim, jump

Rope, conduct, chop a tree or cut meat,

Squeeze shampoo out of a bottle or

Tie your shoe laces.

You are not complete until reunited

With what society calls your mate, what

Will you do, the clock is ticking and

Loneliness is eating your every

Being, your soul. Until that one

Unsuspecting day, you see his face.


by Patty

Hey you! Why do you keep on
following me?
I don’t want you around
I try to avoid you
But you are always there
Stop following me
I don’t want you
I don’t need you
I don’t need your fluffy
White tail in my mouth
As I sleep
You torture me
As I lie in peace
I dream of Liberace
In fur
Lying next to me
In my mouth
And it’s all because
Of you
You evil little Cottonball.

This one was about a cat. I hope.

Thursday, June 3, 2010

More Deep Thoughts

There was a whole page full of these, so I decided to post them all together.

Nudity is the best policy


Not really, but let's move on.

Always eat your pastelito cheese first.


This one had a story behind it. Helen's favorite part of the pastelito was the cheese, so she would just eat around it and save the cheese for last. One day she was eating one and when she was almost done, a friend came over and asked her for a bit and ate all the cheese. That friend of hers was an asshole cuz really, who does that?

Cookies…they are just like little cakes, but crunchy.


Well, they are!

Don’t sit on the baby

That’s not babysitting

That’s child abuse


Truer words were never spoken.

A beeper isn’t a beeper unless it’s connected.


This gives you an idea how old these are. I guess you could always substitute beeper with phone.

I don’t know why people think trolls are cute. They steal your cookies, kidnap your babies and hide your car keys.


I guess those troll dolls were popular at the time...???

It’s rude to go around sniffing somebody but it’s also rude to be throwing smell at people so they can smell you even if they are not sniffing you.


Yeh, really! Take a shower people!!

Happy Birthday

By: Aralis and Patty

After the party is over
And everyone has gone
I will offer you
This last one present
Of secret desires
To unwrap
This special birthday
I will fulfill
Your every wish
Let me blow out your candle
And lick the icing
Off the end
I will offer you
A birthday feast
Of my chocolate covered
You can feel
My bag of goodies
With your love toy
Again and again
Until exhausted and spent
We lay among the remains
Of the party
And look forward
To the leftovers
In the morning

Patty and I really should have gone into the Greeting Card business.

Yeh so, I forgot to crop this one. I don't really feel like turning photoshop back on, so deal with it.

Sexy Questionnaire


Please answer the following questionnaire as to weather you have, or would like to participate in the following activities.








Sex with your mother

Orgy (5 or more people) because 4 people is not even worth mentioning

Cross dressing

Oil of love

Strap on Begly in particular found this hilarious for some reason

Velcro sheets

Hamster up the butt


Candle wax

Crotchless panties

Saran wrap



Blow up doll



Sex in public places

Underage this one meant 17 year olds, not little kids. Even we had our limits

When finished please send completed questionnaire plus your questions, stories, suggestions,

Hiroshima Questionnaire

(I can’t believe I put my actual real address here)

Miami, Florida

Results will be posted in the next issue.

Ahhh....the infamous questionnaire! We actually took this to work and started polling people in addition to the polls we took at the club. My favorite part is the randomness of it all. Like incest and oil of love belong in the same category. Ussually questionnaires like this escalate in taboo, but I don't think anybody thought bestiality was the most innocent of perversions.

Anyway, I already found the results in the next issue so I will be posting those eventually.

I guess if anybody wanted to answer them now I could take those too. I'm going to look into setting up a poll.

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

Another Deep Thought

Life sucks…and so do I.

I don't recall who this Iry was, but she sure sounds like a lady!

Terms of Endearment

By: Nancy

Dearie, lovie sweetie pumpkin

Muffie, love dove, babe and snukkums

Terms of love, names for lovers

Cookie’s crumb? Honey bun?

What crap!

Use your name

These words suck

If anyone ever says a word

In this manner to you

Or around you

Get out of the room

Cut the brake line

In the offending person’s car

And tell them to go to the store

For tacos

See what I mean? This woman could put Jane Austen to shame. Or maybe Jane Austen would just think Nancy should be ashamed of herself for writing this. I guess we'll never know.

I think those are supposed to be people kissing at the bottom. We had some really awful clip art and we used it constantly.

Deep Thought

Sex is like painting...
but better.

It seemed very wise at the time, but now I think it's important to take into consideration who is doing the painting and who is doing the sexing before you make a decision.

Deep Thought #1

Sex is like painting…

But better Dave

It seemed very wise at the time


By: Nancy
Bats in the belfry
And a wooden spike
No! She don’t have sex at all.
Please don’t think she’s a dyke
She will chase you all around
Specially at night
Hold on to your neck
Oh! What a fright
Don’t be sad
It’s a nice way to die
Or be undead.

I have no idea why the name Betty. Not really a name ussually associated with Vampires. and yes, I'm aware it should be doesn't instead of don't, but that's how we published it back then, so that's how you get to see it here.
Here's the original

Come to Begly

By: ???

Come to Begly

You won’t regret it

Come to Begly

You won’t forget it

Come to Begly

I don’t bite

Come to Begly

Or maybe I might

Come to Begly

I’m not a tease

Come to Begly

I promise to please

See what I mean? we didn't sign it, but I'm sure it was us. I don't know why we were so obsessed with Begly. I think it's because it annoyed her. People should really know better than to tell me not to do something.

Here is the original version of the fabulous illustration I made to go with the Poem. Not really sure why I chose to portray Begly as Medusa, but it is quite enchanting. She also seems to be a vampire. And have three nostrils.



By: Nancy

I’m burning up for your love

If you ever work

In a doughnut shop

I will come

And do you

Behind the counter

I will be

Your doughnut hole

Nancy was always the romantic one of the group.

Mystery Poem

By: I honestly don’t remember

Come to me
You delicious piece
Of manhood
My big beautiful
Black stallion
Let me ride you
Off into the sunset
I will ride you bareback
I will ride you hard
I will ride you like
You have never been ridden

Apparently nobody wanted to take credit for this one, even back then. I have a suspicion it was either Begly, or Patty and I pretending to be Begly. I have been looking over all the poems and Begly seems to have been a big source of inspiration for Patty and me.

Here is the original from the zine

Ode to My Fish

Ode to my Fish
By Nancy

My poor little fish,
Dead little fish
Sunk instead of floating
No more kissing
No more swimming
You don’t even have
The decency to float
You suck
I spent a dollar twenty nine
To get you
I took you home and fed you
And this is what you do to me
You died
You stink so bad
The other fish won’t even eat you
You are nothing but a bloated pus ball
Hope the dead do feel pain
So you can tell when you are flushed.

I haven't gone through all the issues yet, but I can safely say not one of the things we called odes was actually an ode. I have to say, I really like this one. It's a bold choice of subject. You don't get enough fish hate poetry these days. One thing that puzzles me, I don't remember Nancy having this fish, even though I was always at her house back them.

Issue #1 Letter from the Editor

Letter from the Editor

Welcome to the Hiroshima Club Beat Poetry Zine – named after an episode of Liquid Television. If you don’t know what I’m talking about you don’t have enough free time (or cable).

Here you will find a collection of some of the worst poetry ever written by some of today’s worst poets.

Here at Hiroshima, we encourage bad, so we urge all our readers to send us all their bad poetry, bad artwork, etc… and remember if you can’t be good, be as bad as you can possibly be.

Pretty self explanatory here, no need for me to go over anything yet. If you don't know what liquid TV was, look it up, it had some good stuff. I have decided to add any present day comments in purple italics. Also, I like that tagline, so I'm adding it to the blog title.

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

Hiroshima Club Beat Poetry Zine Issue #1

This is the one that started it all. I just finished typing it up so I will be adding all the content gradually to the blog, just not to overwhelm you with all the rampant crapitude at once.
Also, there aren't that many issues so if I'm going to drag this out for awhile, we need to take this one piece of crap at a time.

I really need to get around to scanning some of the pages too because artwork this awful, really needs to be shared with the world. I'll get to it, eventually.

But for now, let's just beging with the beggining, shall we?