This is One of Those Poems without any Rhymes
by Brian Bilston
This is one of those poems
without any rhymes,
the sort of thing you might read
in the Telegraph or Times Guardian.
For, as proper poets know,
rhyme’s deleterious
and only gets in the way
when you’re trying to be serious profound.
It’s childish and cloying,
simplistic and singsong
to bat rhymes back and forth
like some dull game of ping pong table tennis.
To the literary critic
it will cause great affront,
which will make you resent them
and think them a snob.
This is also one of those poems
which looks like it might go on to say something insightful
about the human condition
but then just kind of ends.
