The Armchair Critic
The Armchair Critic
You sit screen watching, waiting to die
Taking, receiving, hoarding, saving
The world owes you these gifts
That you never repay
Not engaged with giving
Enraged with living
You do not add to the sum of human knowledge
You increase not our commonwealth
Deconstruct what’s been constructed
While you construct nothing
You sit listening to criticise
Then lie back and think badly of England
Nothing better to do than
Block your imagination
Bark your indignation
Great sphincter full of bile
The sputum and the rectum are symbols of your style
Spat upon or shat upon to lance that rancid boil
You sit watching, scrutinize with your eyes
To judge and carp and stigmatize
Distaste sits on your twisted lips
Rancour boils in your deepest pit
In unhappy praxis, withering volleys are loosed
From the vantage of a soap-box sofa
John Duffus
Sun 25th Mar 2012 23:07
Many thanks Ray,
especially your helpful suggestions - both taken on board as I realized that it was a wee bit ragged and not thoroughly edited - so that has helped a lot! Also the rhyme is too sporadic and needs to be balanced better with the un-rhyming parts. Incidentally, this is about a real person - not just an abstract tirade, perhaps passion over-rides sensibility?
Once again thanks Ray.