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  • Writer's pictureSimon Howard


Change the movie, merge the text,

Convert the painting, I’m too vexed

To give a toss – and too distressed

To notice genre, or show the least respect

For form, phonology or bloody georgics.

And as for pyrrhic, meter and phonetics

You can stuff them up the old Homeric epics.

I’ve had enough of viruses and isolation,

I’m in need of proper conversation.

My Zoom has gone, and so’s my email.

Life’s become a monologue, a sort of tragic wail

Against the Covid torture of awful timing.

And I couldn’t give a literary fuck

If I’m not getting right my rhyming.


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