to be sung to the tune of The Vaccines’ “Wreckin' Bar (Ra Ra Ra)”
Pretty soon, fireman Ray
Doo bee doo cremation day
Piling books on bonfire night
Yeah yeah yeah yeah set alight
The villanelle, Petrarchan sonnet
The haiku burns with petrol on it
Ottava rima, terza too
But slowly — lentement hâtez-vous
What’s this book? Leaves of Grass?
Hey hey hey hey yeah that’s class
Still it goes onto the pile
Bye bye bye it burns in style
Ezra Pound and Seamus Heaney
Wordsworth, Swinburne, Matthew Sweeney
Agonising though it seems
We’re clearing space for all our dreams
Philip Larkin, mum and dadding
That’s the lot, no more to add in
What a lot of room for our words to fill
An empty vase, no daffodils.
"Burn It Up".
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