a seventieth poem...'jane austen vs.'

Jane carries

A six-shooter on

Her hip.

Dark hair tied

In a stern bob.

First up is

Lizzie Bennett,

But Jane is too quick

On the draw,

And fires a hole

The size of a fist

Through Lizzie’s

Bonnet - Lizzie’s

Brains slither like blancmange

Down the living-room wall.

Jane frowns, and

Then, on hearing

Footsteps in the

Hall, gathers her

Skirts and crouches,

Best she can, behind

The Regency writing table.

Enter the eponymous Emma

All hubris and peril

And lo she slips in

The pool of fresh

Blood, pulsing from

Lizzie’s obliterated

Skull. Quick as a flash

Jane is on her

Heels and first blows

Emma’s gun shoulder

Apart, before delivering

The coup de grace – a

Dead-eye shot

Straight through Emma’s

Unrequited heart.

Out in the parlour,

Fanny Price takes

Her powdered cheek from

Darcy’s smoking jacket and

Prepares to duel.