To begin with

            We nearly came to fisticuffs over

            Rhyme, of all things

 

            He arguing against and

            I taking the position that it can’t be helped or,

            More precisely, stopped

 

            That it was here and there

            If not where you’d expect

 

            Crouching like Irregulars

            In the bush you’re brushing by,

            As capable of sounding a huzzah

            Or raising Cain

            As ordinary troops who toe the line

         

            We were only warming up

            Because discussing rhyme inevitably led

            To the one and only way

            He said

            His poems should be read

 

            A via dolorosa, I replied

            And by the sorry looks of him

            When I had done

            He nearly

            Wept

 

            It was for you, I shouted tactfully, meaning You

            To hitch your voices to a beat

            That changed depending on the spice

            And shape and tint

            So when you mulled

            You’d know just when

            To step on the gas or

            Raise the pitch a notch

 

            Though next go

            You might choose to

            Cruise a while

            Before braking in a different key

 

            Which was fine with me,

            I finished, rising from my seat and

            Wiping the wine moustache away

 

            Just please don’t ask

            What it’s supposed to say –

            Or be