I am a poem not very well written
My title is Oh Julie please comeback.
My home is a sock drawer in Tavistock
Conceived from an alco-popping slap

I heard the news of poetry's return
Which for me to understand was not so hard
For it's easy to be bite-sized and truly democratic
When your Dad is LL Cool J and your Mum is Clinton Cards.

Some say poetry's supposed re-emergence at the hip end of the cultural agenda is down to its bite-sized, democratic qualities. If this is true, you have to ask how poetry has managed to sneak from the bungalow of protective custody, past the latest generation of self-appointed guardians and into the waiting arms of a new generation of hungry young lovers.

You guessed it. The internet strikes again.

No intimidating bookshop, no scary-looking book (which could be the wrong one anyway) no judgmental English teacher, sneering schoolmates or tutting parent. Just you, your faithful mouse, keyboard and hundreds of "friends" who understand you.

Love your poem xx. Your poetry rocks xx. Your poetry is sooo deep xxx.

From these initial exchanges, names start to appear: Plath, Hughes, Thomas, Ginsberg and before you know it you are past the looming watchtowers and into the compound - which turns out to be, wooooah! A scene, packed with other people all into the same stuff, talking and exchanging information. You hear of live poetry. Stand-up slams and jams and gigs all around the country where this rapidly expanding subculture is busily engaged in putting words back into the domain of the ear. It's tough, competitive and rough around the edges but information is moving freely and with it comes new names: Francesca Beard, Luke Wright, Polar Bear and hundreds more. Even the elder statesmen like Jock Scott and Jon Cooper Clark have their place on the scene.

Yes, yes, you say but does it work on the page? Possibly, but who cares when people are no longer feeling the crushing embarrassment or the superimposed serfdom that was forced on them before. Is it just a fad? Possibly, but again who cares. So may I suggest that you put down your English degree and pick up your pen and who knows, you might just have enough bottle to get up on stage and read out some of your own bite-sized bedroom classics and hey, you find to your surprise that your poetry rocks xx