Nursery Writes

One, Two,
write something new.
Three, four,
don't let it bore.
Five, Six,
ignore the pricks.
Seven, Eight,
submit too late,
Nine, Ten,
let's start again.

Write a bit of doggerel,
a bucket-ful of shite:
Four and twenty chapters?
Who said you could write?
When the book was opened,
they all began to smirk,
‘Wasn’t that a crappy tome?’
‘Who is this fucking berk?’
The berk was in his writing shed
Dreaming of some money
The editor called it parlous
So bad that it was funny.
The book became so famous
-the emperor’s new clothes-
The berk went off to Hollywood
And bought a straighter nose.

Blah, blah, Dan Brown
Have you any talent?
‘Yes sir, yes sir three bags full.’
Prose like a brochure,
plot in a mess
and more money in your bank
than anyone can guess.