Doggerel Artist

It was some hours of purgatory, Self imposed, but all the same, He thought of it as purgatory as He listened to them declaim Their long strings of words with No apparent rhyme or reason, As if joy and happiness had Somehow fallen out of season. They said he wrote doggerel Of A Most Low And Debase Kind Containing Very Little Substance To Stimulate And Feed The Mind. They inferred he wasn’t welcome In their flagellatory poetry clubs Which really pleased him because He preferred to perform in pubs. There was a real sense of victory Using his drill instructor’s voice To make himself heard above The normal drinkers noise He would get their attention , Conversations would stop, You could almost hear at tines That fabled pin drop. So many of those drinkers Happy to give their time To just stand and listen to His worthless low based rhyme. Oh he was well aware that He wasn’t intellectually lauded But that couldn't hold a candle to The joy when a bar applauded. In the realm of the intellectuals Much self worth was raised As they revelled in their world Of much mutual self praise. And out in the mundane world Of the pub, the club and bar He was regularly applauded as An open mic performance star.