BIG, BIG, BIG, BIG, NOTE - I AM WELL AWARE THIS IS NOT A POEM, SO DON'T SEND PISSY LITTLE COMMENTS ON WHETHER IT SHOULD BE ON THIS SITE OR NOT! I THOUGHT, SEEING AS WE'RE ALL POETS HERE, SOME OF YOU MIGHT FIND THIS JOKE AMUSING. A poet dies, but instead of just dying, or going to Heaven, Hell, Nirvana or what-have-you, he finds himself at a wine bar, with the words "Dead Poets' Society" on a sign above the door. He walks in, and sits down at a free space around a table. At the head of the table is Ted Hughes. HUGHES: Hello, friend! You're just in time for our competition. Complete a rhyming couplet on a given subject for a month's free drinks! POET: Ok, what's the subject? HUGHES: A man with bandy legs. POET: Alright, here goes: "As I was walking down the road, I met a man who's legs were bowed". Everyone is impressed, save for a dapper gent at the other end of the table. WORDSWORTH: Balderdash! That drivel is nothing compared to any of my efforts, for example: "One fine spring day, I saw a dandy, Who's legs were long and rather bandy". This draws applause from the rest of the poets, yet they suddenly stop - William Shakespeare has entered the room. HUGHES: Hey, Will! Fancy a stab at this weeks compo? 'The Shake' says nothing, sits down, and proceeds to win outright with his submission: "Lo - What form of man is this, Who's balls hang in parenthesis?"