Biscuit Bribery

On writing a poem in
return for some biscuits

Biscuits bought
At the price
Of a verse,
I thought
They'd be nice,
But what could be worse!

The biscuits taste
Of commercial art,
Corrupted consumption
And weakness of heart

And a poem for trade
Is no poem at all.
The words form a line
To set my downfall.

Shamefaced and flat
I rush to the tin,
The comfort of biscuits,
Potent within.

I gobble my portion
And poisoned of pen
I've written this poem,
I'd do it again

For the comfort of biscuits
Not too much for words,
But easy to buy
With a short
Rhyming verse;

And this the result
Of my dealings in trade
The dodgiest poem
That ever was made.

I'm sorry I did it,
But now it's too late,
The poem is written
The biscuits, I ate.

Those biscuits I bought
At the price of a verse,
I thought they'd be nice
But what could be worse!

^

Biography

Helen Willey grew up in southwest London and studied languages and linguistics at Cambridge University. After a year lecturing at the University of Paris, she now writes, works and runs in Dublin. This is her first published poem.