PARODY Poem: Ars Poetica, by Oliver Twentyman

Ce qui n’est pas clair est poésie anglaise.

Opacity is à la mode.
Poetry is something you decode.

If you cannot divine the beauty
of turgid verse in airs so snooty;
the fault lies with you.

There is no point,
now don’t you see?
It’s clever: that’s the irony!
Language, butchered — we disjoint,
Who cares what plebs we disappoint?
It wasn’t meant for you anyway.

Line breaks?
Ha!
We make them up!
Voilà —
it’s fake.
You had enough?

And it’s gauche,
don’t you know
to expect poems to rhyme.

To obscure, not reveal.
To demand, not appeal.
The problem doesn’t lie with you —
it’s shit.
Don’t lie —
you always knew.