Do your worst

In Competition No. 2797 you were invited to  think of the worst possible title for a poem and then write that poem.
 
Oh, for more space! This challenge brought in a large and excellent entry that fizzed with the spirit of McGonagall and McKittrick Ros.
 
I don’t have space to commend all I’d like to, but take a bow, Chris O’Carroll (‘I taste better than I smell’), Jerome Betts (‘From Verrucaria Maura to Parmelia Saxatilis’), Josh Ekroy (‘Ode on a Teenage Problem Child’), George Simmers (‘The Niceness of Jimmy Savile’), Graham King (‘I floss my nostrils daily’) and Adrian Fry (‘Your Oblong Face’). The winners take £25; W.J. Webster £30.

Rare the taste of moonbeams

Head thrown back and mouth agape,
The silver essence on my tongue,
Hands cupped to form Selene’s shape,
I gave the sleeping world her song.
And as the final plangent note
Flew from my lips’ encircling ‘Ah!’,
There streamed in down my funnelled throat
An argent draught of light lunar.