A Kick Up the Arse of Poetic Farce
Or, A Slap in the Face of Public Taste* updated for the readers of our long-overdue Manifesto, because only we are the Conscience of Tomorrow. Via us the Lute of the New Harmonies shall accompany the Art of the Printed Word: the past is too turgid; the Societies, their cliques and publications are less desirable than The Watchtower.
Can he who does not deconstruct his last poem appreciate his first. All questions are rhetorical in this seminal work.
We applaud the magazine editor’s rejection slip in acknowledgement of yesterday’s puerile submissions, for who, we ask, would dare to wear the the multicultural, multicoloured shirts of an original Federico Garcia Lorca.
We must erase Saints Armitage & Szirtes & their cronies from the perfumed and cliched anthologies. All adherents must dismember their existing offspring in order to produce a new, vital generation of vorsprung durch technik.
Avert those eyes that drift over the proverbial, anorexic volumes issued by A. Cne, B. Oil, C. Oldsore and their clones, those who desire a penthouse, compact and bijou, in Brighton: the reward the muse gives to compilers of soporific sestinas and vomit-inducing vilanelle.
From the heights of their charnel-houses we stare in contempt at these poetasters and their pretty verses.
We demand that the word of the new poets be heard, and subsequently seen on the pristine pages of the extravagant glossies.
May your muse continue to be amused
We remain yours faithfully,
The Revd. W. A. Spooner, Mrs. Malaprop, The Revd. Thomas Bowdler, et al., on behalf of
The New Romantic Semantics
* Russian Futurist Manifesto 1912