An over educated twit,
An algorithm he has writ
To analyze poetic Lit
And sort the good stuff from the shit.
No, this is not a silly joke;
I’m not aware that he’s a soak.
He’s just a poor misguided bloke
Who got in with some dodgy folk.
In coding up his little app
This un-poetic confused chap
Post modern brains set out to tap,
But all he got was free verse sap
From pros at universities,
Where each with everyone agrees;
Where rhyme and reason no one sees
And all are paid quite handsome fees.
He reasoned these guys write the best
So used their methods for his test.
No matter how their words were messed
These must be better than the rest.
‘Twas engineering in reverse:
These poets on the public purse
Told him theirs was the proper verse;
All other styles – well they were worse.
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