#Sonnets. Lucien Young

       EMAIL

       DAVID ATTENBOROUGH

       TRANSFORMERS

       SONIC THE HEDGEHOG

       THE GREAT BRITISH BAKE OFF

       MAN BUN

       EMOJIS

       BATMAN

       THE JOKER

       SPOTIFY

       GOLLUM

       DEPARTMENT STORE

       ULAANBAATAR

       PASSWORD

       ERECTILE DYSFUNCTION

       VIAGRA

       PICK-UP ARTIST

       NEGGING

       ANT & DEC

       CHRISTMAS

       WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE 1

       WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE 2

       WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE 3

       WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE 4

       WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE 5

       ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

       ABOUT THE AUTHOR

       SUPPORTERS

       COPYRIGHT

      INTRO

      I know what thou art thinking: why did I

      These sonnets write in twenty seventeen?

      Do I imagine there are people keen

      To give my poor pentameter a try?

      And, furthermore, who do I hope will buy

      A book that doth the noble form demean

      With subject matter frivolous, obscene

      And quite impossible to dignify?

      In truth, I needed it to occupy

      My febrile brain, for what a year it’s been.

      I thought I could, with verse iambic, pry

      Some sense from nonsense, and our modern scene

      Depict and mock, while using ‘thee’ and ‘thy’

      In pages fit to rest by thy latrine.

      KIM KARDASHIAN

      1.

      When I beheld upon my laptop screen

      The best and brightest of our earthly stars

      As cover girl of Paper magazine,

      With gloves and pearls and glist’ning, global arse,

      Then did my heart with foreign feelings flare,

      For little had I known erotic passion

      Ere I had glimpsed thy shining derriere

      And learned thy gilded name, O Kim Kardashian!

      But thereon grieved my soul, for I did think

      Of how thy form empixelled might remain,

      That, IRL, my lips might never drink

      A glass of thy butt-balancèd champagne.

      I need thee, Kim; oh prithee do not let

      My heart be broken like the internet!

      2.

      Thou Aphrodite Kallipygos! Thou

      Proud-buttocked cynosure of ev’ry eye!

      Thou shining mistress of the here and now,

      Thou queen Armenian, thou mystery!

      Thy grace exceedeth Khloe’s far, and Kourtney

      Rejoiceth not to glimpse thy Twitter count;

      Some fifty million followers support me

      When I do argue thou art paramount.

      Thou cardinal Kardashian! My love!

      How doth thy broadcasts gladden mine antenna,

      Thou TV star, whom I admire above

      Kris, Kendall, Kylie, even Caitlyn Jenner!

      Thou art a goddess, and thy tape with Ray J

      Doth get me off, just as thy dad did OJ.

      3.

      Wherefore do fools thy great renown dismiss

      And jeer that thou art famed for being famed?

      They claim thy wealth unyoked to talent is,

      That of thy fortune thou should’st be ashamed.

      Know they not of thy vaunted app, Kimoji,

      Or thy bestselling book, of selfies made?

      Think they the giddy sums that E! bestows thee

      Reflect not well thy powers to persuade?

      Why claim they thou art symptom of an age

      Of frippery, an Instagramming whore?

      Art thou not kindred of old Betty Paige,

      Monroe and Grable and Zsa Zsa Gabor?

      I will not grant to watch thee is obnoxious:

      ’Tis so to mock thee, or upbraid thy watchers.

      4.

      O Kanye, can ye hear this lover’s moan?