Tom Raworth 1938-2017
I could go on like this all dayTi-tum ti-tum and doodly-ay
With every now and then a glance
To see if I’ve still on my pants
And if I have, if that stain’s jism
Or just a trace of modernism.
For isn’t this what poetry is? . . .
A raincoat over similes
You’ve seen before . . . FLASH . . . look again
The same. No need to strain your brain
Simply recline on the chaise lounge
And listen to the rhymes go bong.
And on like this ad infinitum
With a metrical change or two to brighten
The gloomy rhythm of these stanzas
(Metaphor is Belgium for my Panzers).
Let those who think that piss is water
Sup deeply this insipid Porter.