No one reads poetry any more, my editor said.
Not even poets — unless it is their own work,
He added with a wry smile. Say what you like.
So I did, but I was mostly gentle anyway
Ribbing Ted for his niggardliness, Angus
For his habit of laughing at his own jokes,
Even when they’re bad; Milton for his grandiose
Turns of phrase, peppering my poems with names
Of friends, rellies, family. All turned up at the Launch.
The book sold well. I introduced it with
a wry smile picked up from my editor:
‘Dedicated to the Ones I Love’.