I was perusing through volumes of glorious poetry at the local Barnes & Noble this afternoon, looking for the perfect book of poetry to suit my mood. While pouring over volumes of Yeats, Dante, Thoreau, Bronte and the like, I came upon a a book of some of the worst poetry ever. The book, Very Bad Poetry, contained such works as "The Stuttering Lover" and "A Poem to the Diseases of the Teeth." How beautiful to live in a country where even the worst crap can find its way to a shelf near you in the interest of good plain fun.
Contributed by Sarah.
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