Poetry or Booze

It’s nivver easy being a poet

fra Yorkshire, wi an accent set to confuse

‘do ya like talkin’ wippets?’ Nah, forgedd it

let’s hit the booze;

no longer bothered by any rhymes, hooray’s or boo’s.

But Larkin, Armitage, Harrison, they upset

t’establishment - summat like Ted Hughes -

by spoutin’ swear-words in a sonnet

(even in a luv sonnet)

using bar and bitter as their muse.

A genie fra t’coal-hole’s what ya get.

No wonder Friday night’s the night to booze.

It’s reet ‘ard graftin’ as a Yorkshire poet;

done now and I’m off to turn to booze.