Oh future student pay but little heed
To what your teacher says about this verse
The only thing that matters is we bleed
And that we shit and piss and fuck and curse.
Ten syllables in each line, but so what?
And fourteen lines? Who really gives a shit?
I could have written quatrains for the lot
Or tried my hand at rapping like a tit.
The words and structure they don't really count
It's what's between the words I want to say,
Although my petty thoughts will never mount
To anything that changes night and day.
And so no sacred muse I'd like to thank,
I wrote this in the bath, then had a wank.
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