For Posterity I'Ll Write My Verse Poem by Colin Breck Boardman

For posterity I'll write my verse,
The present doesn't care,
Thus it is the poet's curse
To wish ourselves elsewhere;

But if I write in gigabytes
And there's a power cut
All my poems may take flight
And who can trust in buts?

Paper too will turn to pulp
Or circle up in smoke,
One can only gawp and gulp
At the propect it evokes.

Perhaps I'll carve them on a rock,
Though some are prone to weather,
(Yet winds do not hard granite mock
Amongst the moors of heather) .

There they'll stay in quietness
With such style and distinction,
Yet who or what will bear them witness
After the next great extinction?