Poetry just isn't that funny.
This is the kind of outlandish and generalized subjective-disguised-as-objective statement critics make about poetry all the time, donning their authority as one might don a hat. Critics do the same thing with humour—as though funny can be definitive, as though it wasn't kind of weird that one guy gets to be the definer.
So now I'm going to do that too, and pretend the following list is scientific and totally not subjective and not at all compromised by the list being limited to books I happen to have on my bookshelf. I'm going to put on the hat and OWN my authority: Behold, sixteen seriously funny poets.
Thanks to Dina Del Bucchia for the inspiration. And in the spirit of conversation (and expanding the limits of science) please tweet us YOUR favourite funny Canadian poems and poets @49thShelf.
*****
Fake Paul, by Kimmy Beach
What's so funny:
...now he asks if anyone is called Michelle
I could fucking be Michelle
a frumpy woman with grease
in her hair calls, I'm Michelle!
she's not even looking at him
she's talking to her friends while he sings
to her!
he doesn't even look at me the whole song
I'll tell him I broke the wineglass accidentally
cut myself a bit but I'm all right
leave my blood on the table
I can see the veins in his throat at the high notes
singing in French to an ugly woman who
couldn't care less.
(from "Show the Next Night")
*
Spit on the Devil, by Samantha Bernstein
What's so funny:
The comedians, great moralists of our day,
are giving lessons in reality, like
literally, on the meaning of and necessity for
an objective one, as it is known. John Oliver, as text
ing teenage girl, parrots the journalist on CNN:
What does he mean when he says words? A question
we should always ask—Freedom is, after all, a mortgage
company, a mobile subsidiary, arms manufacturer (owned
by Cerberus—seriously); but when this is queried of The President
of an administration that holds the people
beneath umbrellas on Inauguration Day
were protecting themselves
from the big-league heat of God's
pleasure, the laugh
catches in the throat.
(From "Winter 2017")
*
Rom Com, by Dina Del Bucchia and Daniel Zomparelli
What's so funny:
The funny thing is you can't remember
how to tell a knock-knock joke.
What do you get when you cross
a kitten's face with Jon Hamm's face
and a grilled cheese sandwich?
Turned on. And probably disappointed...
(From "The Funny Thing Is")
*
A Really Good Brown Girl, by Marilyn Dumont
What's so funny:
Dear John: I'm still here and halfbreed
after all these years
you're dead, funny thing,
that railway you wanted so badly,
there was talk a year ago
of shutting it down
and part of it was shut down,
the day liner at least,
'from sea to shining sea,'
and you know, John,
after all that shuffling us around to suit the settlers
we're still here and Metis.
(From "Letter to Sir John A. MacDonald")
*
In This House Are Many Women, by Sheree Fitch:
What's so funny:
I'm a feminist BUT I still really like men it's just the patriarchal
white male power structure I don't believe in you understand
BUT then again maybe I'm not a real feminist with a capital F
because I do like lingerie BUT I do believe in equality I mean
it's really okay for a man to wear lingerie too if he wants BUT I
believe women just don't have the same privileges as men BUT
I'm not angry or bitter or lesbian BUT what if I was BUT I just
don't like labels or group mentality anyhow BUT maybe you
could call me an under dogmatist get it like in underneath the
dogma of an ideological stance BUT I think just by being here
on this planet we're all underdogs anyhow...
(from "Lucy on BUTS")
*
Frequent, Small Loads of Laundry, by Rhonda Ganz
What's so funny:
...Demeter insists I go on blind dates;
get used to life above ground.
Says I had a fever, but seem to be
much better now.
Emails me the latest stack
of compatible matches.
Don't be fussy, she says.
They can't all be Greek.
(From "Persephone Tries Internet Dating, But Every Man Reminds Her of Hades")
*
Stowaways, by Ariel Gordon
What's so funny:
If I had had twins, I would have eaten one.
If I had had twins, I would have cracked
a beatific smile. "Thanks,"
"but no." And primly given it/them back.
If I had had twins, I would have tucked
them under my arms like footballs or small perfect
hand-grenades aimed at my breasts: fuck.
If I had had twins, I would have kept mum.
(From "Primipara")
*
Wood, by Jennica Harper
What's so funny:
Father told me realboys have something inside
them that tells them what is right and wrong, clever
or foolish. The Mindcricket is completely silent,
heard only by the realboys inside his skullbone. It can
spring up at any time, warning of poor decisions
about to be made, such as burying gold pieces and
waiting for them to bloom. I'm no longer sure I want
to be a really. I can squish my cricket with a broom.
(From "Realboys and Cricket")
*
Throaty Wipes, by Susan Holbrook
What's so funny:
The Disney Princesses outnumber you
The Disney Princesses grace pencil cases, socks, toothpaste, bandages,
Soon they will appear on dog food and pink insulation. The
next time you go to your mechanic he will offer you the
Disney Princesses timing belt.
Lesbians worry their daughter will catch flak about hemp
overalls and flax sandwiches, so they buy her the Disney
Princesses backpack.
But even if you wanted to shield your child from the Disney
Princesses, you couldn't. Someone will lend her a Disney
Princesses eraser, and she'll be hooked, because the
Disney Princesses are like crack or PEZ...
(From "The Disney Princesses")
*
Maunder, by Claire Kelly
What's so funny:
Stubborn as a turntable
spinning Wu-Tang Clan
until the neighbours pound
an aggrieved beat
on the 3 a.m. walls
Jagged as the schismatic end
of a too-close friendship,
with hangouts and cohorts divided
by even and odd days
into a checkerboard calendar
of camaraderie and loneliness.
Stiff as the drinks
my mother no longer pours
after finding religion
in my brother's ashtray:
Jesus' bearded visage
radiating from a nicotine-
stained Styrofoam plate...
(From "Similes from Pure Sleep")
*
Meeting the Tormentors in Safeway, by Alexandra Oliver
What's so funny:
They all had names like Jennifer or Lynne
or Katherine; they all had bone-blonde hair,
that wet, flat cut with bangs. They pulled your chair
from underneath you, shoved their small fists in
your face. Too soon, you knew it would begin,
those pinkish teeth like shrapnel in the airm
the Bacchic taunts, the Herculean dare,
their soccer cleats against your porcine shin,
that laugh, which sounded like a hundred birds
escaping from a gunshot through the reeds—
and now you have to face it al again:
the joyful freckled faces lost for words
in supermarkets, as those red hands squeeze
your own. It's been so long! They say. Amen.
(From "Meeting the Tormentors in Safeway")
*
VS, by Kerry Ryan
What's so funny:
Your fists stall, rear
approaching her face
You have to learn to hit
To watch your glove smash
against her forehead
like a fender into flesh
Have to practice to land
a pure shot to her belly—
hard leather echo—
without saying sorry.
(From "the hardest lesson")
*
Yes or Nope, by Meaghan Strimas
What's so funny:
I know a guy who claims he's going to live
off the bounty he's growing in his yard.
You should see the two plum tomatoes that hang
like sagging nuts from his leggy vines.
Last count—six peas. But why romanticize?
(From "Nature Poem")
*
Sweet Devilry, by Yi-Mei Tsiang
What's so funny:
HOW TO DRESS A TWO YEAR OLD
Practice by stuffing jello into pants
Angry jello.
speakveryquicklywithoutbreathing
untilyoubegintoseeplanets
spinninglike
coinspirouetting
silverflashesof
light
and
balance.
Write a blog post against the hegemonic practices of the
fully-dressed elite...
(From "How to Dress a Two Year Old")
*
The Emily Valentine Poems, by Zoe Whittall
What's so funny:
I am in Vancouver for a family wedding
I am foot sore lost
in the bridal shop,
lungs heavy.
Everyone asks me,
"Where's your boyfriend?"
and I say,
"In 1989."
(From "Dirt Road Wedding")
*
Table Manners, by Catriona Wright
What's so funny:
I would cut off my own thumb for the perfect thimbleful
of wood-ear mushrooms and bamboo shoot soup.
My pay checks all go to heirloom parsnips and pickled lamb tongues.
I dream of singed pigs' feet, pearly cartilage and crisp skin.
When Cassie posted those pictures of barbecued tarantulas in Cambodia
I wept with jealousy and rage. It took days and days of foraging
for edible moss just to calm myself enough to sleep...
(From "Gastronaut")