Snuggie Poems!

We had six truly amazing entries to our Snuggie poem contest! The entries are below for you Snuggie enjoyment. The winner (randomly drawn using a very complex methodology) is Teresa Houle. Teresa, you lucky lady, e-mail your mailing address to awesome at pankmagazine dot com and we’ll dispatch your prize forthwith! Thanks for playing. We’ll do this again some time next month.

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Who is the moron that invented the Snuggie?
It’s a fleece-tent with sleeves,
I thought they were kidding me.

Is our society so torpid?
Yet, bursting with cash?
That we will buy anything,
That warms our white ass?

The new designs are out;
I can look like a zebra
While I flick my clicker
And watch some more Oprah.

And don’t get me started on Snuggie for dogs,
Anyone who buys that deserves to be flogged.

“â€Teresa Houle

The Zebra-print Snuggie

So much depends
upon

a zebra-print
snuggie

glazed with Cheeto
dust

beside the TV
remote

(with massive apologies to WCW)

—Ryan Bradley

“The Truth About Satan”Â

The reason he was
kicked out of Heaven —
not because of rebellion —
but because he tried to
steal God’s Snuggie.

—Robert Swartwood

Ample Praise

Snuggie, sweet Snuggie,
We need you, you see,
In times of insecurity.
Old people love you.
The unemployed, too.
Your animal prints
Make us think of the zoo.

Your presence is growing
Your future is bright
Illuminated by a book light.
You’re on the TV,
on Twitter, in dorms.
Everyone cool
uses you to keep warm.

Snuggie, dear Snuggie,
You leave my hands free
To eat popcorn and candy
And drink cold sweet tea.
All this lounging is fun but
it’s driving me nuts—
I’m starting to look
like Jaba the Hut.

Linda

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Gigantic Gerberbabies in beanbag onesies

Season eleventy of Lost

Fingerprints now Cheetocrust cheesescapes, fingers more cheese than meat, but more sodium than cheese (immortality imminent)

but Does Contain Milk Products (thank the Lord)

Underneath, tracksuit and key lime crocs—in case of fire

My zebra-striped sausage casing can’t hold in the Friday night fun

—Jeremy “Snuggiemaster” Brooks

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forgetting how to hug
we wrap ourselves in cheap polyester
clinging to lost memories
of fireplaces, loved ones

the product of countless
toxic fumes, exploitation, disaster
the blanket with sleeves
pretends to be a friend

only to steal everything
that ever matters

—Martha