It's a clearing house/protective custody for all the world's really awful poetry. You can even submit some of your own. If this doesn't sound interesting, maybe it's because you're thinking bad as in Hallmark bad or Wordsworth bad, but this is bad as in maybe the poet is a danger to society or at least shouldn't be allowed to become a substitute teacher. Bet you can't read just one.
(The one below was just on the front page this morning. I found it very moving.) (Sorry the fonts are out of control.)
a squid valentineby Alexis McNeil
A squid in love is a rare sight.
They are a type that finds their very identity a stumbling block in love,
their doughy physique and palor makes them unappealing even to themselves.
A squid is made for sex, a lubricated mass or throbbing appendages, what else could they be good for. Squid do not like to make eye contact because it makes them feel naked. A female squid stands on the ends of her tentacles behind a rock to obscure her body and then pretends to look up, as though she is considering leaving the ocean all together. The male squid uses an opposite tactic by laying as close to the ground as possible and partially covering himself with sand as though trying to disappear completely. Ninety percent of squid love bonds occur when the female squid accidently injures the male squid by standing on his face. When two squid intend to be together forever they braid their tentacles together. Other squid are intensely jealous of these kinds of public displays so often the 2 romanticly inclined squid are only left with eachother.