"Curse the Free Verse"

To think I could have been 
At Punjab United versus Stansfeld
In the Kent County League...
Premier Division, no less!
Instead I have chosen
As if to PROVE
I am NOT a 'groundhopper'
A poetry magazine festival instead.
And therein lies my dilemma.
For does that mean
You can take it as read
That I am finally admitting
To being a poet?
Possibly, probably...
In all truth
Hand on heart
Who gives a fuck about me
Or what I am?
Do you give a damn?
Unless...
You are sat 
In this church hall
Giving your all
Behind your trestle table stall.
I'll have the cheaper ones
That you can't sell
I'm not made of money
Can't you tell.
Two for a fiver
Maybe three for six
I don't care what's in them
Just a mix.
You ask me
To pick and choose
I say any will do
I can't really lose.
I don't know if
They're good or shit
Calm down, dear
Don't have a fit.
Truth is most of of you
Are up your middle class arse
I'm just not in the mood
To call you a cunt
So I'll let it pass.
You say this issue
Is particularly good
As the publisher
So you fucking should.
As I'm the buyer
I'll judge if it's crap
Patronise me again and...
You'll get a verbal slap.
I've seen your sort of stuff
With your poetry rules
Looking down on working class poets
As if we're uneducated fools.
Snooty toffee nosed twats
With your airs and graces
What you put in print you 
Won't say to our faces.
Highlight of my day
Back issues of 'Rising' were nice
And a 'Poetry on the Picket Line' t-shirt
Didn't need to think twice.
Bottom line is
It's all fucking words
And the majority in here
Are just total turds.
Poetry is just poetry
But somehow I think
That you think
Your words are somehow
Better than mine.
Which they may be
But do I care?
I just get my pleasure 
From writing 
And loving to share.
Much as I like reading
And find poetry fun
I've little in common with this lot
When all's said and done.
Fuck sake!
Someone ANYONE
Take me back
To South London!

Dulwich Poet 13th May 2017

(Earlier today I went to the Free Verse poetry magazine festival in Clerkenwell. It was, shall we say, rather middle class, in my view...There were several poets who read a poem on the hour, every hour, introduced by various different magazine editors, who had their wares on sale. I simply could not 'connect' with any of them, if that's the right word. Though I did happily go home with a lighter wallet & lots of stuff to read!)