The Ultimate Bad Poem

Everyone has ideas of what a good poem is. Anyone has any idea how to write a bad poem? I have sort of thought about that, and produced one, which is to be included in my revised Chelsiad:

Oh Leo! Come and kiss my hungry lips
And put your hands around my longing hips.
Oh Leo! How I long to feel your grips,
Your lovely hand my heart from my breast rips.
In your presence the stars do fancy flips,
The virgin moon behind the black clouds slips.
The rising sun, climbing up the hill, trips
As I dream of you in my movie clips.

To rhyme with lips eight times, and put all the cliche images together, that must be a pretty bad poem...