Π in the Sci
Every girl and every boy
Should set aside their paints and pots,
Deep-six their poems – how they cloy! –
Their songs, their sculptures and gavottes,
Their study of their bits and books
And culture’s many vital themes,
The way that architecture looks,
The wild analysis of dreams,
And having thus disposed of art
By having filled the nearest bin,
Let them be urged to make a start
On science. Let the fun begin!
For if you want to earn a bob
Or count the wads of extra dosh,
You must hold down a science job.
Arts are only for the posh,
Are useless, though they may assist
With pointless acts of small defiance.
Music? Portraiture? Desist!
A poem is not rocket science.