Bogland, written by Seamus H., a contemporary
I was born in thirty-eight, he in thirty-nine.
Bogland.
I've never read it
nor any of his works
but I found myself in sync
with him, at least temporally.

An article in the Paris Review
an interview.
Heaney, a Mic from north of Erin
Apparently made a living with rhyme
For a time
But used his laurels
To obtain some chairs
At universities here and there
and there.
No fault found with that,
He'd a family to support.
A wife and 3 children he begot.
Hard to feed those little dribblers
as a free lance scribbler.
None the less I must say alas
Seamus seems a pompous ass.
Having said that
Remember I have not read his work
And the interviewer was
Some special kind of dork.
The interviewer asked,
And now I quote, you see;
“If you could be an animal what would you be?”
So perhaps Seamus isn't such a fool
But you must admit the interviewer's quite a tool.

Remember near the start of this I said; ...
but I found myself in sync
with him, at least temporally....
So if he's pompous it's a trait I also share
Hence let's blame it on the interviewer and leave it lying there.