By Atticus Ellis
Naughty boy, your verse will do you bad
Unless you cloak the name that you once had
Behind a crafty pseudonym at once.
Heed me, and don’t play the heroic dunce.
Every stanza can be fraught with dire risk.
You need be clever and seldom ever brisk.
Lend your ears to Ovid’s anguished cry
That carmen et error bled his honour dry.
Don’t ape Pound, you fool, the Duce’s feeble pet,
Nor drunken Rabbie Burns, choked in ceaseless debt.
Say something saucy, but say it with no face
For mobs to savage, allowing you no case.
It’s Atticus you’ll be, and damn the rest
As you storm the world’s broad stage with eager zest.
This is your seal and your unforged autograph.
Venture onward with it now, and try not to gaffe.