The Person from Porlock

Yes – it was me, OK?
I made that foolish poet pay.
I just wanted to save the day:
to save the world from
another endless epic
filled with lines and images
that are total nonsense
but which academics
come to blows over
trying to define,
while those who say
“He's just rambling on!”
are labelled philistine.

I couldn't take it anymore:
the endless chatter and debates
over non-existent things
that becomes an all-out war.
So, I went up to his door -
talked about
weather
politics
religion
and the taste of gingerbread
until I bamboozled that dream from his head
and he put down his pen and wept instead.