I lay me down, inviting sleep,
Then close my eyes and quietly weep;
And, weeping, I compose an elegy
To all who haven’t read my trilogy.
Oh what joy when, with contrition,
They rectify this sore omission!
Enlightenment and laughter will
Fill their souls and overspill!
Critic Oi, poet bloke. That don’t rhyme.
Poet What?!
Critic “Elegy, trilogy.” That don’t rhyme. Won’t do.
Poet Well, it very nearly rhymes.
Critic Not good enough.
Poet It’s assonance, for God’s sake.
Critic Asinine, more like.
Poet Assonance! It’s a perfectly legitimate poetic device. Look it up.
Critic Wouldn’t have done for John bloody Betjeman and he was Poet Laureate.
Poet Well it did for Philip bloody Larkin and he was Poet Laureate too!
Critic Phil who?
Poet Philip Larkin! Half the time he didn’t bother with rhymes at all, and when he did it was half-baked. “Clothes, those.” “If, life.” “Back, dark.” See?
Critic S’pose you stand a chance then. Next Poet Laureate?
Poet It’s… not impossible.