Imagine a "poem" so wretched that this is one of its better strophes:
|Earl the Squirrel's Rule #86|
Phrases stop short of,
No news is good, good
Things come, all signs point,
Objects may appear, it has
The ring. Possession is 9/10ths
Firing on all. Ignorance is.
My lips are. The grass is
Always. After England
The feel of not to feel
Nothing funny about this, certainly, beyond the notion that at least one editor cannot distinguish unmitigated dreck from, of all things, poetry. Then we saw the punchline, though:
"To read the rest of this piece, purchase the issue."
Read the rest of this piece? LOL! How much do we have to pay to unread what we've seen so far?
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Earl Gray, Esquirrel