Joined Up Jingo Lingo

 

 

 

 

 

Dulce et decorum, etc...
 

Come, all you makers, listen to me
if you value your lives and want to be free
of this poetry lark. It’s like catching a cold;
snot running and leaking, thick-headed, you're sold
on the sense that what’s in should in some way be out
and congealing on paper. You haven’t a doubt
you’ll sleep sounder without it, but imperatives win;
there’re masses to write and not writing’s a sin.

Oh, really? Take fights between free verse and formal.
Who says they’re important? They’re pretty abnormal,
though a sign of your times, when war’s for an outing.
While cities are bombed, will you sit around spouting?

    Why not off-chair your arses, get out there and die
    for glory and honour? The poesy will lie.