Let us deride the smugness of 'The Times': GUFFAW! <br />So much for the gagged reviewers, <br />It will pay them when the worms are wriggling in their <br />vitals; <br />These are they who objected to newness, <br />Here are their tomb-stones. <br />They supported the gag and the ring: <br />A little BLACK Box contains them. <br />So shall you be also, <br />You slut-bellied obstructionist, <br />You sworn foe to free speech and good letters, <br />You fungus, you continuous gangrene. <br /> <br />Come, let us on with the new deal, <br />Let us be done with pandars and jobbery, <br />Let us spit upon those who pat the big-bellies for profit, <br />Let us go out in the air a bit. <br /> <br />Or perhaps I will die at thirty? <br />Perhaps you will have the pleasure of defiling my <br />pauper's grave; <br />I wish you joy, I proffer you all my assistance. <br />It has been your habit for long <br />to do away with good writers, <br />You either drive them mad, or else you blink at their <br />suicides, <br />Or else you condone their drugs, <br />and talk of insanity and genius, <br />But I will not go mad to please you, <br />I will not flatter you with an early death, <br />Oh, no, I will stick it out, <br />Feel your hates wriggling about my feet <br />As a pleasant tickle, <br />to be observed with derision, <br />Though many move with suspicion, <br />Afraid to say that they hate you; <br />The taste of my boot ? <br />Here is the taste of my boot, <br />Caress it, <br />lick off the blacking.<br /><br />Ezra Pound<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/salutation-the-third/
