"Laureate" by Graham Sherwood had me chuckling but I also saw a more serious side in passing.

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If you produce pretentious pap

Both addled and obscure

Ensnaring readers in a trap

Of literary manure,

Best get a job within the trade

Of poetry that holds sway,

To show that you have got it made...

That you can make it pay.

Then you can mix with similar minds

Who - sure they set the mark -

Ignore a world that usually finds

It's left out in the dark.

But generous to a fault it nods

In awe-struck admiration,

Deferring to today's odd-bods

Of overt ostentation.

"They must be good", the world concedes,

"To create stuff we can't grasp",

Not realising it merely feeds

Comprehension's final gasp.

So - if you seek to be a poet

Who finds a contemporary niche,

Embrace crap and before you know it

You'll be revered - and even rich!

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