The Language of the Gutters

A story in the Hull Daily Mail about poems in bus shelters prompts the following deathless ditty (not by me - if only) in the comments stream.

Poets at the bus stops?
It may improve the scene
But I see that Larkin’s one of them.
I hope they keep it clean!

‘Twas recently reported
In my Hull Daily Mail
A bus called ‘Philip Larkin’
Which surely cannot fail

To enthuse our kids poetically
And keep them in their seats.
‘Twill stop them misbehaving
And ending up as NEETS.

If the folk had really read his poems
Who chose to name this bus
I’m sure they’d be less eager
To promote him with their fuss.

I think that I was on this bus
A couple of days gone by
The air was blue with profanity
Foul words in rich supply.

A young girl sat beside me
Barking into a phone
Bragging the sort of exploits that
She should have kept at home.

I seem to be a magnet to
The ignorant, foul and blaring
Polluting other people’s space
With obscenity and swearing.

So why name a bus for Larkin
And the foulness that he utters
To promote him is to celebrate
The language of the gutters.