Ask any of my ex-girlfriends, or my wife, and they will tell you that writing really bad poetry is something that comes naturally to me. Really, really bad. Vogon bad. So when I saw that the crack young staff of The Hatemongers Quarterly was holding a nation-wide Horrible College-Student Poetry Competition, how could I resist?
The result? One of these is mine. And no, dear readers, I won't tell you which one.