Although the lines you’re reading here

Are by a literary whiz, 

You probably have no idea

How masterful this poem is.


From Syria to Swaziland,

From Carson City to Cadiz,

Alas, too few can understand

How brilliant this poem is.


Were that not so I’d live a life

Of swanky yachts and quaffing fizz,

With Keira Knightley as my wife.

How beautiful this poem is!


I should be styled ‘Sir Rob’ by now,

Ennobled by a star-struck Liz,

But hardly any sod gets how

Astonishing this poem is.


If ‘What’s the World’s best poem?’ was

A question in your local’s quiz,

The answer should be ‘this’ because

Of how superb this poem is.


It makes the work of Ezra Pound

Seem on a par with stuff in Viz.                                                

These lines are clearly more profound.

How wonderful this poem is!


I’ve read some Milton, and it beats,

Believe me, anything of his.

It shits on Tennyson and Keats.                        

How fabulous this poem is! 


It shows the sonnets Shakespeare wrote

To be an overrated swizz.

I’d sooner see our schools promote

How excellent this poem is.


The scansion’s sweet as linnet’s song,
My rhyming is the fucking biz.
It's worthy of a Nobel gong; 
How unsurpassed this poem is! 


(I can’t believe that Peter Loo

And Mr Faber (Mrs? Ms?)

Rebuffed it. Don’t they have a clue

How marvellous this poem is?)