AND THIS BE WORSE
(A reply to Philip Larkin*)
Too late your wisdom reaches me
For I've had four, and it's the truth
Those children, so life teaches me,
Retaliate with claw and tooth.
With bitter words your pride they prick,
Your heart they hurt with stony stare,
And, what is even worse, they stick
Two fingers up at all your care.
Thus Goneril, the pretty dear,
As rose-leaf lips she'd pucker up
Accepting kiss from Daddy Lear
Became an expert fucker-up.
Philippa Murrell
*THIS BE THE VERSE
They fuck you up, your mum and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.
But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another's throats.
Man hands on misery to man,
It deepens like a coastal shelf,
Get out as early as you can,
And don't have any kids yourself.
Philip Larkin