A bad poet. Definitely a bad poet.
I'm surprised you already don't know it
('Tis a concept that's hardly inchoate) :
That FEW things in life
Are as tedious and rife
With yawns, as an irksome, bad poet.
A bad poet, falling in love and bummed out that he lives under a bridge.
There once was a poet called furry
Lost glasses made it all blurry
Found on his head
Wished he was dead
Was drunk and sounded all slurry.
No-bad poetry is good!
To put things upon a firm footing,
With NO obfuscation or sooting,
Bad verse can be good,
And that's as it should;
Your lim'rick's the proof of the putting.
Once there was a man
Whose poems just wouldn't scan
The trouble, said he
Is easy to see
I always try to put as many words in the last line as I can.
This is what I do with trolls that live under bridges:
a really bad liar