My grandfather told me1
that if you find a word you like, 
Lean on it
Not every accent is marcato2
He said that subtlety is the secret 
To sincere communication2
And that honesty and wit 
Must be kept in equal measure3
To prevent accusations of the P-word
Like some low purveyor of ironies3
And as an artist I am, of course,
Morbidly preoccupied 
With the past, perfect, pretense;
Its avoidance, its affect4
My grandfather told me that1
Pre-empting an accusation
By admission, and insisting it’s deliberate
Is to be one step ahead.5

And I always follow my grandfather's advice5
Because just like the word of God1
It doesn't really matter2
If something is true or not
For it to be real6
So (triumphantly) I told my grandfather 
That appearing intelligent is as good
Or indeed, better 
Than the real thing.7


1 No he didn't.
2 Some of this may be true, but best not to sound too certain
3 Half-witted half-truths
4 My grandfather told me1 it is better to not know how to read
than to alliterate2
5 This clearly isn't true.6
6 And vice versa. If you like.2
7 He appeared unconvinced and told me that my aspiration pleased him, 
but I didn't really understand what he meant by that.

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