T.S. Ellis's Lovesong for P. John Manafort has got to be the worst damn poem I've ever read.
No! I am not Don Junior, nor was meant to be;
Am an attendant lord, one that will do
To swell a progress, start a scene or two,
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to be of use,
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
Absent of any sentence, and a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous—
Almost, at times, the Fool.
I grow old ... I grow old ...
I shall wear the sleeves of my stupid ostrich jacket rolled.
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