Monkeying Around With Shakespeare's Sonnet 3 [update] Poem by Keith Shorrocks Johnson

Look in thy glass and tell the face thou viewest
To grin and grimace and strain another
Bardic turd - that if now thou not renewest,
To besmirch the word and rhyming smother
Will consign fair Shakespeare to the tomb,
Disdaining the tillage of his husbandry -
Endorsing those whose fatuous farts still bloom
In monkey shit to stop posterity?
Art thy primate glass is best dark to thee
Leaving the lovely screen of empty time
So thou through windows of each age shalt see,
Despite the crap, the word still reigns sublime.
For if macaques, in plenty to infinity,
Type his words, mankind will not remembered be.