Sleeping with the Post-Post-Modernists
by Darren Swift
like iambs to the slaughter
the words of purple London's countenance
are sucked in centrifuge grip
encased by ribbon topped circular traffic jam.
The modern British poets hide within
espousing elitism, riding rough shod
over all that has gone before.
Behind more battlements,
hidden in an inner enclave
lie/lay/weep the Post-modernists;
decon-constructs of the anglish
paying himage and herage to those
who will pronoun-ce the wyrds
instead offering cinematic poetry
in thirty second chunks
for the MTV bytesize generation.
The literati soak it, wear it,
wash it, breathe it, fuck it.
drop inta street patois
then project it onto
the House of Lords;
Call it art.
What a pile of shit.
Posted on 08/12/2007
Copyright © 2022 Darren Swift