or has the squid of poetry
inked you into its tentacles?
There’s much more rubbish writ in prose –
though soppy verse
can be much worse;
or tepid epics
with vapid topics;
or stanzas dull
and fanciful;
or limericks
with silly tricks; or
couplets mock-heroic,
like empty crocks echoic;
lines that would be better for
their not being stuffed with metaphor;
unkempt attempts at simile
that register but dimmily;
and ‘moanalogues’ from broken hearts;
sad mishap crap; linguistic farts;
slam-dunk bawls, that mean **** all;
rhymes that over backwards bend
to cap a couplet at their end;
elegies, whose energies
not rapt, but sapped; and seldom apt;
dust-dry stuff that vaunts ‘tradition’;
limp Latinate, like micturition;
or classic odes
with massive loads
of sheer incomprehension..
My final word, in fine old words:
say what you mean… why be absurd?

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