Poem of the month: The Canon by Jacqueline Saphra

Each month the Guardian’s Review section selects a poem to highlight

The men are in my room again: this time
I wake with Petrarch panting in my ear
while the Bard’s at my desk checking my rhymes.
Such joy; I kiss the poets’ inky fingers, share
my love, thanking them for form and beauty.
But we don’t like your lady-stuff, your loose ways
with art and man, they say, your take on history.
Milton reminds me of my fall from grace,
Wyatt tries to bridle me and Spenser sits
too close. The men push me towards the dark
but I’m too fast. You’ll never stop my mouth
not now I’ve started. I can play rough too.
I’ll write my world, I’ll take my place. I spit
this shape onto the page. I make my mark.

• From Dad, Remember You Are Dead by Jacqueline Saphra (Nine Arches, £9.99).