In a former life, I used to hate poetry submissions. There were lots of them. They covered a multitude of sins. Some were very good. Most were not. It’s not uncommon for publications to have a policy of refusal for all kinds of verse.
The Guardian has momentarily made an exception to their version of that rule after Mark Gatiss responded to claims that Sherlock is turning into James Bond. He follows in the footsteps of Conan Doyle, by phrasing his riposte as a poem.
He lists in rhyme tales where Holmes cut up rough with his foes.
Here is a critic who says with low blow
Sherlock’s no brain-box but become double-O.
Says the Baker St boy is no man of action –
whilst ignoring the stories that could have put him in traction.
He lays it out that Holmes could be a bit of a bruiser.
There’s no need to invoke in yarns that still thrill,
Her Majesty’s Secret Servant with licence to kill
From Rathbone through Brett to Cumberbatch dandy
With his fists Mr Holmes has always been handy.
You can read the full poem on The Guardian website along with the offending critique and some in house analysis.