Imagined Rough Drafts of Famous Poems: Edna St. Vincent Millay

"Spring" by Me

This is a series I’ve invented where I come up with the crappy first drafts of popular poems by beloved poets. For reference, here is the original poem .

And below is my imagined rough draft.

UGH APRIL. What’s the point? 
You’re gorgeous, yes. 
But is that it? Flowers?
Gooey nectar?
My neck is getting sunburnt.
Sure, everything smells nice. 
Your claim, however, 
that death does not exist
reeks. 
Everything dies, April,
and all of this is meaningless.
I’m tired of this same thing,
year after year,
you, throwing your 
petal-shaped nonsense 
all over the pointless earth.
Brains rotting below, 
while marigolds pop up 
out of skeletal eye sockets.
Here we go again.

“April comes like an idiot, babbling and strewing flowers.”