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Hurts your eyes, eh? I'm Don Paterson (straightforward, no double-consonants, no po-ly-sy-llab-ic first name, no effete "y" for a red-blooded "i"), here to warn BRITAIN about something that hurts my HEAD when I look at it. I'm talking about the scribbling of one J.H.Prynne, a lah-di-dah don from Cambridge University down south who, when not swilling port from a punt, takes quill in hand to scribble poetry.

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Well, Britain, that's what some toffee-nosed highbrow wankers call it and it has to be stopped. I've looked at it, run my finger along a couple of lines moving my tongue (as you do) and, believe me, if I can't get anything out of it nobody can. And I'm educated, and artistic, and published so what chance do you have? I know, like teacher said, that poetry is "emulsion vaccinated in vacuity". A poem should lie on its back, naked, open, and say "Thanks for dropping in, sailor." Here's one of mine (in the appropriate mainstream position) to illustrate REAL POETRY. You can tell it's a real poem because (a) it's relevant to today and thus to eternity -- there will always be kittens, roses and New Labour (b) the last three letters at the end of each line are the same -- did you notice? and (c) the word "like" is there.

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Now this Prynne, instead of going the proper route of eating along the trail of shit to Faber, has forced his so-called poetry on the NATION by having it printed in small editions by ephemeral fly-by-night publishers and by almost never giving public readings. Creepy, eh? And now I hear that this gibberish has been translated into Chinese and published over there. Look back up at those pictures ... why, it's like a Crucifixion... you only care about the one in the middle. I think you'll agree with me that Prynne in any language is pretty unreadable.

What can YOU do to help REAL POETRY? Well, you could fax your MP demanding a boycott of Chinese goods until they learn sense: you could go to London and spend a happy hour on the Circle Line REALLY READING one of those POEMS ON THE UNDERGROUND though of course they're so deep you might find yourself back where you started (UPDATE: this is not so useful since they dropped wonderful contemporary poets to put up a lot of stuff by old dead people): you could vote in our poll: you could demand time on your local radio station to denounce this junk, plug your own book, then run home to listen to yourself and preen.

SUPPORT THE CAMPAIGN FOR REAL POETRY

Click here to vote if you're from Cambridge and don't understand how links work
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