Dan Brown's a sad clown wielding a god-awful pen.
Jeremy Clarkson should choke to death on the Small Book of Zen.
Chris Moyles deserves no spoils aside from the fat he craves.
What would happen if, by aberration, Blake should rise from his grave?
Shakespeare would quiver like a drunkard's liver
If he should rise and spy
Literature in its death throes.
I bet he'd just wish it to die.
Lumpen prose as thick as porridge
Provokes me to bother no longer with cadence;
I rather bask in the stultification of 'popular' literature,
Waiting for a time in which I'll thrive.
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