PURE, BEAUTIFUL RUBBISH (as Carbon)

So this is poetry.   
Apparently.
It’s gotta rhyme.
So it must be.
Rubbish it is.
Like a condom full of jizz.
Like a pile of moldy socks
Eyeball jelly, kidney rocks.
Chopped-up corn-like fecal matter,
Stinky cheese and fish-eye batter
So on so forth, la dee da,
And yes, that’s it, I’m done, hurrah!