Perhaps the direst form of poetry ever to plague the English language is war poetry.
For some reason, war always brings out the worst in poets, and it is always the innocent
who have to suffer the barrage of drivel that these doom-mongering composers generate.
And since we specialise in the idiom of tortuously dreadful poetry, the events following the
September the Eleventh goings on provide us with prime material for boring the tits off
anyone dumb enough to read such guff.
The Terror Of War
The initial attack on Afghanistan prompted this wave of banal tripe.
A Prelude To War
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