A pox from Maine to Donegal
On the scribblings of McGonagall
Who cannot rhyme to save his peter
And doesn't understand plain meter
Iambs, dactyls, or rhyming schemes!
This man a POET? In your dreams!!
His words ill chosen, scansion bad,
As sensitive as a Brillo pad
He is unclaimed by any school
Who is no poet, but all fool.

A. H. J.
May 2004