Of Pope and his couplets:

“Fitting, for a man of his stature.”

and yet he wrote not in the fleeting half-aborted stiches
favoured by those now touched by blind Poesy’s bankrupt hand
which echo on the page like a stone cast down a steel-walled well

no he wrote instead in a cadence fit for Kings and Gods
and what’s more his Rape was seven-hundred and ninety-four lines long

(trust me i’ve counted)

but fearing the cruel irony of Cassandra’s curse
he dressed his Prophecies in the habits of the mundane
just as the would-be bards of today
dress the mundane in the garb of prophecy

(denude me of these puffed-up lines
and there’d be nary a mote left)

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s