hip hop beats

hip hop beats
from the cafe on the corner
have spread through the square

Just One Pint

"My poems just keep coming," mumbled Ant,
One sultry Tuesday, as he got up to read
His latest, to an aimiable sycophant
Who'd joined him in the Gardener and Weed

Suzanne could drink one pint while he drank four
And though he never seemed the worse for wear
She called a cab to take him to his door
And shared the mile to make sure he got there.

Now, helpmate, she whisperingly confided,
"I've sent your poems to the TLS."
The SAE came back, and soon derided,
Suzanne revamped herself, regrouped, no less -

She spends her Tuesday evenings poem-writing
with just one pint to see what it will bring

In the heat that has become cool
the Beats have become the beats...