Pff, allir vita að versta ljóðskáld allra tíma er Paul Neil Milne Johnstone...

The dead swans lay in the stagnant pool.

They lay. They rotted. They turned

Around occasionally.

Bits of flesh dropped off them from

Time to time.

And sank into the pool's mire.

They also smelt a great deal.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paul_Neil_Milne_Johnstone

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