O I much prefer Shelley to Keats!


Keats is so damnably neat!
He left his fond heart
For us pickled in Art
But his atmosphere's sick-room effete.

O I much prefer Shelley to Keats!
When he can't find the word, Shelley cheats!
I mean, scarcely mature,
Mais mon Dieu! Quelle hauteur!
Keats only measured five feet!

O don't give me Keats, give me Shelley!
I like him so well I can't tell'ee!
His fuck-you effulgence
Wins old men's indulgence—
Who cares? He indulged himself silly!

O I much prefer Shelley to Keats!
Put your scarf on, John! Isn't he sweet?
But Shelley is careless
Where Keats is so airless;
Shelley is attitude,
Keats runs to platitude;
Keats did write prettily,
I'm glad he saw Italy—
O if either had lived
Think what he might have gived!
No but let us leave Keats
At the Goddess's teats
For I much prefer, much prefer, much prefer, much prefer,
Much prefer Shelley to Keats!


And I much prefer Pinter to Beckett!
Beckett's a positive Hecate!
Just reading the dude
Puts a damp on my mood
And when I feel the impulse I check it.

I've been told Beckett's better than Pinter.
It's the grope in the dark Beckett's inter.
He can draw you a map
Specifying the trap
But he won't get your soul through the winter.

Yes I much prefer Pinter to Beckett.
Pinter's just that much more neckett.
He love/hates women
Where Sam love/hates Him and
So sparely you'd scarcely expeck it.

O I much prefer Pinter to Beckett!
And although you may say what the heck it
Just doesn't much matter,
The former, the latter,
Still one is a scheme
And the other is dream;
Beckett's reduceable,
Pinter's seduceable.
Sure, both are depressive
But Beckett's excessive—
Took Joyce's maximal,
Found it all axeable—
No I much prefer, much prefer, much prefer, much prefer,
Much prefer Pinter to Beckett.



Robert MacLean is an independent filmmaker. His The Light Touch is on Amazon PrimeTubi and Scanbox, and his 7-minute comedy is an out-loud laugh. He is also a novelist, a playwright, a blogger, a YouTuber, a film reviewer, a literary critic, and a stand-up comic poet. Born Toronto, PhD McGill, taught at Canadian universities, too cold, live Greece, Irish citizen. Committed to making movies that don't matter. No brains but an intellectual snob.


I’ve always regarded Europe as more or less of a restaurant.

The Light Touch on Amazon Prime

The Natural Wish to Be Robert MacLean

The Devil's Pleasure Garden



No comments:

Post a Comment