I refuse to say what Orwell would, and advises we should, convey in one sentence
I am a Tennyson and length is my way
However penniless are left those who this path take
Rapidly dispatched are the savaging papers
The niblike point of a me-trained rapier
They read my work with a would-be rapist’s sharkish guile
All charm and wile and all the while
The wilder mind content to wait a while for its finest prize
Heart-spun wines inclined to climb hillocks beside the stuck lift of my spine
Stodgy, my blood’s old chip oil fifty times fried
Dodgy chipper’s ketchup’s dyed.
Alchemisland 
Leave a comment