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?)