Of Porter I cannot read a line but with a sigh I wish it mine
Particularly impressive is 'Scrawled on Auden's Napkin', a parody of the craggy old master in his late, expansive, Horatian late mode which I have praised here before. I want to quote it all, but try this bit - note the wide and somehow pleasingly superficial range of reference, the simultaneous impressions of wisdom and nonsense, and the absolutely Audenesque line breaks:
King Herod is Sous-Chef at 'The Ivy', though
We don't eat 'lovely kiddies' - but we do
Insist that for a species whose most holy
Act is swallowing its God a well-made
Omelette is a Christian deed.
And so on. It's breathtaking stuff - though a parody, it goes beyond mockery to approximate a poem that Auden himself (whose late manner had a healthy does of self-parody) might have been proud of.