This Poem Stinks So Badly It Doesn'T Deserve a Name

This poem stinks. It doesn't rhyme It doesn't do anything It has a little alliteration well... it will have some because that's the easiest poetic element to incorporate and if it didn't have any poetic elements it would not be a poem but would be prose with randomly inserted carriage returns... (are carriage returns extinct?) and that would be dishonest. This is not a lying poem. That would be oxymoronic. It's a stinky poem. And when I finish writing it I'm gonna print it out and tear it up into little bitty teensy weensy pieces (if I have enough patience to get that small) and flush it down the commode so it can join all the other excrementally effluential essences (note the alliteration) of all the other stuff that stinks almost as badly as this poem.