I think the ultimate bad poetry contest is the Wergle Flomp (just google it).
On the subject of cleaning up after pets, here's another:
(Coleridge)
It is an Ancient Mariner
lives on the beach alone,
and those who pass his hut by night
may hear his doleful moan.
“Since my last voyage I've settled here
amid the sand and rocks.
I keep three cats, and every night
I change their litter box.
“The litter's here, the litter's there,
it lies on every hand.
And soon my feet will tread, I fear,
more cat litter than sand.
“I thought I'd find new peace of mind,
far from the haunts of men.
But I'd rather floss an albatross
than keep three cats again.”
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