Last Friday I met my cousin at a Santa Fe used bookshop going out of business (he refuses to sell online, via mail and his prices were too high). I did buy a stack of books there, a biography of Marcel Proust, a book of celebrity poetry (to be reviewed here later) and two books called Rotten Reviews which are flabbergastic gold! I'll cull out the poets for you.
The first review I found was for Sylvia Plath's book The Bell Jar from 1971:
"Highly autobiographical and...since it represents the views of a girl enduring a bout of mental illness, dishonest."
I'm gonna love these.