...except after "C"

What follows is what has been argued to be the worst poem ever written in the English language, by Theophilus Marzials, from his book The Gallery of Pigeons

---

Death!


Plop.

The barges down in the river flop.

Flop, plop.

Above, beneath.

From the slimy branches the grey drips drop,

As they scraggle black on the thin grey sky,

Where the black cloud rack-hackles drizzle and fly

To the oozy waters, that lounge and flop


On the black scrag piles, where the loose cords plop,

As the raw wind whines in the thin tree-top.

Plop, plop.

And scudding by

The boatmen call out hoy! and hey!

All is running water and sky,

And my head shrieks -- "Stop,"

And my heart shrieks -- "Die."

* *

* * *

My thought is running out of my head;

My love is running out of my heart,


My soul runs after, and leaves me as dead,

For my life runs after to catch them -- and fled

They all are every one! -- and I stand, and start,

At the water that oozes up, plop and plop,

On the barges that flop



And dizzy me dead.


I
might reel and drop.




Plop.




Dead.

And the shrill wind whines in the thin tree-top



Flop, plop.

* *

* * *

A curse on him.



Ugh! yet I knew -- I knew
--

If a woman is false can a friend be true?

It was only a lie from beginning to end --

My Devil -- My "Friend"

I had trusted the whole of my living to!

Ugh; and I knew!

Ugh!

So what do I care,

And my head is empty as air --

I can do,

I can dare,

(Plop, plop

The barges flop

Drip drop.)

I can dare! I can dare!

And let myself all run away with my head


And stop.

Drop.

Dead.

Plop, flop.

Plop.

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