The Last Poets' Barman

Another one for the Last Barman Poet project:

I'm the Last Poets' barman,
They're in here all the time,
Dreaming of revolution,
With a mix of jazz and rhyme.
Progenitors of hip-hop,
Embarrassed at their luck,
To be considered father
To a bunch of rappers who suck.
Who rap about the rocks they got,
And their new clothing range,
Hardly weighty verse designed
To engender social change.
I'm the Last Poets' barman,
I help them drown their sorrow.
I pour a round and call a toast:
"The Revolution Starts Tomorrow!"

The Last Plantagenet Poet

This is for my friend Ross Sutherland's "Last Barman Poet" project. Basically, it's an attempt to create an 'Aristocrats' joke for poets, using the Last Barman Poet poem from 'Cocktail' as a starting point. More can be found at http://last-barman-poet.blogspot.com/

I'm the World's Last Plantagenet Poet,
Descended from a line of kings,
A bard out of my time,
Of great and kingly deeds I sing -
The achievements of my line:
Of Thomas the Martyr,
And Blondel's lament,
The signing of the Charter
And the first Parliament.
The hammered fighting vainly,
The pokers inserted anally,
The war that lasts a hundred years
Leads to abdication tears,
A kingship claimed by force majeure,
And fucking the French at Agincourt.
Of Wars of Roses, Wars of Cousins,
Of brothers betraying by the dozen,
From avuncular crime, carefully concealed,
To a King's final charge on Bosworth Field.
Of deeds of chivalry I sing -
I make my verse my lance,
And if we had a Plantagenet king,
We'd at least be at war with France.