Ode to a Dead Salmon contest – our finalists

The judges have decided! Here at last are the three finalists from this year’s run of the best in bad prose and poetry. Thank you to everyone who took up the challenge and sent us their cleverly contrived entries – we certainly had a lot of fun reading them and hope you did too – all entries are posted at the Ode to a Dead Salmon blog. Congratulations to our two finalists, the pseudonymous “Sam N. Cook” and Lee Goodman for entering into the spirit of the occasion so well. And thank you to our two judges, Nancy Lord and Bill Sherwonit, who graciously reprised their roles as Alaska’s arbiters of tongue-in-cheek literary bad taste.

We have been unable to set up a poll link, so please email your choice to 49writers@gmail.com. All voting will be held in strictest confidence. The winner will be announced here and on the Ode to a Dead Salmon blog on Monday, August 13.

One fish,
two fish, red fish, more red fish
By “Sam N.
Cooler of
salmon of
they’re alive,
they’ll be dead.
Blood lust
be howlin’
under the
neighboring netters
boisterous and loud.
It’s not
yet eleven
but that
one dude is drunk
hollering at me
to come
check out his trunk
full of
fish I should envy
but I
cannot go near
‘cuz it’s
way too early
to smell
that much beer.
toward my
friends and our nets
How is it
I think
with regret,
years an Alaskan
but first
time dipnetting.
It’s a
regional ritual
finally getting.
An hour
and a half and
already done
with ten
fish for the two of us.
But the
fun’s just begun.
Did I
mention I did not
grow up
around fish,
gutting, nor cleaning,
and hours
later I wish
we had
just stopped at five.
But we’re
not that bright,
so we two
were up
late that night.
Would I do
it again?
In a
heartbeat I’m thinking,
but next
time around,
I too will
be drinking.
Ode to a Dead Salmon 1
By Lee Goodman
A salmon that rots in the silt
Is like Onan whose seed would soon wilt.
Onan wanted no lads,
But the fish wanted scads,
So into the silt both spilt milt.

Ode to a
Dead Salmon 2
By Lee
I love salmon, I said with a smile,
Not knowing this fish had turned vile
So appetite whetted,
I ate what was fetid
And barfed till I only had bile.

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