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London's fiercest comet, Kate Moss stirred things up this year with the following poem to Pete Doherty in full moon empty sportsbag

You love them more than you love me
So that’s why I could cry all day long
that’s why I can’t breathe

The ever interesting, Full moon empty sportsbag also published a number of his. But the one which really stands out most is the following untitled poem.

Untitled

Waking up alive in London beaches of muddy iron filings
bubbled under
puddles of rain
soaped wet water
Fitzrovia splashes in the dips
of her curbs as I slip a folded fifty
in to a clammy glove
and skip
off the pavement by the
‘Kebabish City’
lick lick fry chick chat
does fixing up rot your teeth?
What about mine.
In the sweet by and by my crooked smile from one too many sad goodbyes no longer says hello
(the west end is piles of rusting pedals and blank metal stares)

by Pete Doherty

Now you either take one of two approaches to the poetry of rhyming celebs. One like it and stand accused of trying to ingratiate yourself into the 56th circle of their coterie, or two, round on it like a literary Rottweiler and tear it to shreds. I'm inclined to do neither and keep my thoughts to myself. I'll let you decide. (The question being: who should take who seriously?)