Yes. It's true that Bucky's poetry on Get Fuzzy is not fit for consumption by human, feline, canine, or any species.
But such great puns! Wordsworthless. Wrongfellow. Albert Whinestein. E = MC Scram. Edgar Allen Schmo. Walt Twitman. Start here and read last week's series before it disappears in another week.
That Darby Conley correlates the unfitness to the depths of badness that Vogon poetry reaches just tickles me pink - Douglas Adams is much celebrated chez Cheek.
In fact, did you know you can generate your own bad Vogon poetry here? Here's mine from today:
See, see the nurturing sky
Marvel at its big mustard depths.
Tell me, Pid do you
Wonder why the ass ignores you?
Why its foobly stare
makes you feel horny.
I can tell you, it is
Worried by your denudilate facial growth
That looks like
A smoked gouda.
What's more, it knows
Your fecund potting shed
Smells of mold.
Everything under the big nurturing sky
Asks why, why do you even bother?
You only charm catsh*t.