Plenty of poetry on my flist this morning! In general I'm not a great poetry lover, but there are some I really like. Being cynical by nature, my favourites stem from the 1930s when poets were writing about things that were very wrong with the world. The ones I like least are those that go on and on about the beautiful countryside (the pastoral poets). Yes, I agree that the countryside is beautiful, but why did they never mention the flies or the cowpats? Hmm.

Anyway, here's one of my favourites. I won't print it in its entirity. Just my favourite verses.

Toads by Philip Larkin

Why should I let the toad work
Squat on my life?
Can't I use my wit as a pitchfork
And drive the brute off?

Six days of the week it soils
With its sickening poison
Just for paying a few bills!
That's out of proportion.

Ah, were I courageous enough
To shout, Stuff your pension!
But I know, all too well, that's the stuff
That dreams are made on.

Given I don't think I know anybody who's really happy in their job, this probably sums up 21st century life pretty well!

And another that could have been written for our times is Louis MacNiece's Jigsaw II:

Property! Property! Let us extend
Soul and body without end:
A box to live in, with airs and graces,
A box on wheels that shows its paces,
A box that talks or that makes faces,
And curtains and fences as good as the neighbours'
To keep out the neighbours and keep us immured
Enjoying the cold canned fruit of our labours
In a sterilised cell, unshaved, insured.

Just think, this guy never even saw a MacMansion ... But if he were alive and wrote that today, he'd be castigated for not putting a positive spin on it.