Welcome to the last refuge for the world's worst poetry.
It's difficult to understand how, in this age of information, poems
that merely miss the mark can be tossed into the cold world to fend for
themselves, only to whither and be forgotten.
Please help us to help them to help us.
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Her lips draw close to mine
recoil
Her hands stained by moonlight wine
shivers
Her hot breath in my ear:
fuck everyone
T G has published another poem since joining on 30/11/99. Read more of T's terrible poetry at the anthology. Here are three of T's latest works: