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Remarks
from final judge Jendi Reiter
Thanks to everyone who entered our 23rd contest
for humor poems. While normal people do things like "go
outside" in the summertime, there's no place I'd rather be than
in my Arctic-chilled office at Winning Writers HQ, chuckling over the
288 shortlisted poems that first-round screener Lauren Singer
selected from a record 6,846 contestants. There may be no such thing
as a free lunch, but thank goodness for a free laugh.
Our entrants creatively mangled many entertaining
topics, from the ever-popular travails of hardworking parents, to
Biblical satire, the sufferings of the obscure writer (and the
questionable merits of the not-so-obscure), and inane television and
advertising. Lauren noted an excess of poems about ChatGPT taking
over the world. She advises future entrants to reach beyond "the
usual pooping, farting, aging, fat-shaming, and poorly executed
parodies of 'The Raven' and 'A Visit from St. Nicholas'." The
difference between finalists and award-winners came down to the
tightness of the poem and whether it had layers of meaning beyond the
obvious main joke.
Our Winners
First-prize winner Robert Garnham's
"Torquay, 2 – The Other Team, 2"
could be a skit performed by the late great John Inman of "Are
You Being Served?" The genially befuddled, foppish narrator is
trying to understand his straight mate's "culture" by
attending a British football match, but the players' salient
features, for him, have nothing to do with the sport's inexplicable
rules. I'm also the kind of queen who would bring a book and a cuppa
tea to a sportsball event, so I can relate.
Abbie Loosemore's
second-prize poem, "Gregg's First Pizza Hut",
fantasizes about a date with MasterChef television presenter Gregg Wallace, which ends in disappointment
for her because he's more excited by restaurant gadgetry than
seduction. Whether or not you've watched Wallace enthuse over
comestibles, this wry poem will feel familiar to anyone who's tried
to seduce a nerd away from his technology.
Speaking of technology, Tim Eberle's
third-prize poem "RoboBurger or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying
and Love the Tech" also sings the praises of
fast-food innovations as a less harmful and more achievable goal for
human ingenuity than our typical output of weapons and AI-generated
propaganda. This skilled work of formal light verse sustains Seussian
meter and clever rhymes over its entire saga of tech-bro hubris.
Honorable mentions explored the lighter side of
ghostwriting, Gen-X childhood, boozy ladies of a certain age,
Instagram moms, dealing with dumb comments about your disability, and
much more. We liked how these poems went beyond silliness to say
something insightful about relationships.
Our next contest is now open through April 1,
2025, with a top prize of $2,000. Be the good kind of weird, not the
kind who says cat ladies shouldn't be allowed to vote.
Read all the winning entries.
See our press release about the winners of this
contest.
See our current contest guidelines.
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