Sunday, 5 April 2009

Ode to Middle Class Poets

The poets of the middle classes
Can kiss the working classes arses
With their sonnets and their farces
Written on soft vellum

Their empty drivel fills the bookshop
They churn the fucking shit out non-stop
Any educated posh fop
Can write crap books and sell um

Their subject matter’s really serious
The style employed is dry and tedious
These posh pricks are so imperious
Thanks to their cerebellum

They think because we’re not so bright
Is why we shun that poetry night
No, it’s cos your work is shite
Is what I want to tell um

There still exists a class division
Your dad’s a teacher, mine’s in prison
The working classes work, your jissom
Won’t ever compel um

But I doubt these poets would listen
And so I make it my own mission
With words to repel um
And here’s the first word:

No comments: