#21 - Little Riots

After three stanzas of 'Beppo' by Lord Byron
(and I reckon it's fair to say HE was riffing off Cowper)

“Poesy! With all thy faults I love thee still!”

I said it at the Fringe whilst I was drunk;

I like a sculpted line that’s born with skill;

I like a witty rhyme that doesn’t clunk;

I like a seasoned poet, sharp and chill;

I like an open-miker, full of spunk;

I like when, shameless and majestic,

Iambic feet come out all anapaestic;

I like the rappers with their pristine hats;

I like the students with their odes to cats;

I like dead writers, perfect on the page;

I like the live ones, thrilling on the stage;

I like the freaks, the geeks, the swots, the nerds;

I like the kids who just have fun with words.

AWB