The Trials of Post Modernity When You're Just Not Interested
I tried to deconstruct a bloody sonnet
to get da dum da dum out of my head
I made a sandwich, put some pickles on it
and listened to a bit of Grateful Dead…
I don’t think I will meet the ultimatum
to break it down or quit this form abuse
I’ll take these female endings, alternate ‘em
with plain old male and see what they produce.
Well look, it seems this sonnet’s half a ballad
I ought to call it something new, I guess.
Let’s see, is it a bonnet or a salad?
Whatever, it’s just pure iambic stress.
The couplet’s here, it’s my last chance to do it
Oh bugger me, it’s ended and I blew it.