Lite and trite, lite and trite – do not
go gentle into that good nite – oh for
Christ’s sake let’s lift the endeavour
said it poems past, SAID IT POEMS
PAST…! We don’t have the luxury, or
deserted sense of occasion to play
politically correct parlour games.
Real verse isn’t ‘lite and trite’ noon-
day siesta composed late-afternoon
awakenings gently rhythm sedated, or
free-ranging okras of organic poultice-
badinage with interplays versing zilch
politely broken by meaningless farting
of miasmic meanderings completely
apropos of naught thickening like
cancerous lesions fraught on poetic
skin of once were sensitive rhyming
and thinking souls.
I am mortified you write it
at all, I am consumed with
pointless rage it is read and
fawned over by names
attached to verses I do like
do not go gentle into that
good nite – errant of cronyism!
© I.D. Carswell 2006
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