Hey dude...

My happy 

thought?

Possibly 

in rhyme?

That's a laugh. 

I think 'A' 

must be

going daft 

or else

new poets

have a 

better time

than when 

I first

set out upon 

the path of 

rhythmic crime. 

To read 

a book or

speak in time 

to the cadences 

of uplifted minds

was to end up

with broken glasses

unless the poet

was particularly 

gifted

at kicking asses. 

You see, 

critics were 

very much

the fashion

and hated readers

with a passion. 

Then came 

the Beatles,

humming, strumming

hairy and loud

and rhyming 

was at last

in play

for the 

in crowd

as long as it

was in songs

with 'love' and 'yeah'. 

So if the

going got tough

and the gang

got pissed,

you could

always yell

'don't hit me

I'm just

the lyricist!'

Anyway t'was

all for the 

best and 

hey, not

to be rude,

any time

I feel

the pain,

I remember,

poets need

a bit of honest 

suffering

anyway,

dude.