Poem by Bobby Goosey: IN DEFENSE OF DOGGEREL

 

Bobby Lee Goosey

                                                             In Defense of Doggerel

One has a talent for doggerel verse,
Doggerel, doggerel, doggerel verse.
But what does one do with fresh doggerel mirth?
What’s it all worth, all that doggerel mirth?
 
You feed it to doggies, your dog’s eaten worse,
Doggerel, doggerel, doggerel verse.
They digest it well if it’s kept plain and terse,
Doggies love mirthful terse doggerel verse.
 
One writes profusions of doggerel verse,
Doggerel, doggerel, doggerel verse.
But what, I still ask, is its doggerel worth?
What’s it all worth, all one’s doggerel mirth?
 
It’s worth mucho much; there’s a doggerel dearth,
Doggerel, doggerel, doggerel dearth.
It’s worth a small fortune, your doggerel verse;
Keep writing! Make up for the doggerel dearth!
 
One tries to sell it, one’s doggerel verse,
Doggerel, doggerel, doggerel verse.
It’s funny, but nobody wants to buy mirth;
No one gives a thrum on this doggerel earth!
 
Okay. No one needs it, your doggerel verse,
Doggerel, doggerel, doggerel verse.
But it keeps your brains sharp and your feet on the earth,
Doggerel, doggerel, doggerel earth;
 
It plugs up the holes in your head up with terse
Mirthful (true, dearthful, but merciful) mirth.
That’s all it’s worth; that’s its doggerel worth,
Doggerel, doggerel, doggerel worth.

[from Bobby Goosey's Compendium of Perfectly Sensible Nonsense]