Philip Larkin was a morose Englishman who wrote some pretty fine poetry. He was just about the polar opposite of Hallmark mushiness. In that spirit, here is his poem entitled This Be The Verse as a late entrant for Father's Day. This Be The Verse

by Philip Larkin

They fuck you up, your mum and dad
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.

But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another's throats

Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
And don't have any kids yourself.

Now...doesn't everyone feel better?

-- Johnny Canuck (j_canuck@hotmail.com), June 18, 2001

Answers

Mr. Canuck,

It looks like this was some sort of experiment to discover if the level of culture could be raised around this joint. It also looks like nothing grew in the petri dish. There is no hope for us. Intellectual sterility reigns supreme.

Cheers!

-- Miserable SOB (misery@misery.com), June 19, 2001.

SOB -

Yep, it would appear that there are not a plethora of Larkin and/or poetry fans on the board. Guess I won't post stuff by that cheerful chappie Auden....!

There once was a man from Nantucket..........

-- Johnny Canuck (j_canuck@hotmail.com), June 19, 2001.

I've heard the first line, but never ran across the rest. I for one would like to thank you for posting it. I'm the one going through the racks of cards on Father's Day eve, trying to find one that acknowledges paternity to fulfill family politics and not be hurtful, but doesn't go into the mushy end of saying that I actually like the guy, which I don't particularly.

-- cheetos (cheetos@orange.crunchythings), June 19, 2001.