Judge Not - I'll do it myself

Somehow it seems the poems do not pass muster The words a swirling dance that will not cluster They deem themselves alone to be the fulcrum That lets the lever lift them from the hum-drum And midst the overflowing verse – coerce The pen to change its ever-destined course And drop a not so nearly rhyming line Though Shakespeare dropped one in from time to time Thus, do I sit like Howdy’s Mister Bluster Grumbling in metronomic fluster Tapping out the pentagrams iambic Trembling beneath my use-less panic Thus do I shout: “Damn Shakespeare’s sonnet” Were I a dog I think I’d pee upon it