I hope that I shall never see
that poem based on midnight pee –
the hungry words that are impressed
to rhyme, in modern style, with breast;
aesthetics making God exist.
Here’s hoping you’ll at least be kissed
upon the mouth (and not the arse)
by critics who can grammar parse!
Excuse convulsions in my verse:
meaning can Yoda have inverse.
At two A.M on any night
No poem’s going to be quite right.