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.
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