Is it all right to throw in modern profanity in poetry? I wonder because I have encountered it more and more of late. An example, by an Irish poet, John Carney: These Broken Things These broken things, Well, howd’ye do. And up and down my memory, let’s have you dance With those sharp toes. So sharp. And then let us walk a while Down the circuit of a good beach. Maybe the best beach. Maybe the best place of all. And be blunt about it, No matter the twisted gurning faces. No matter the pale night’s glimmer at The back of every plan. There is no Christ, no big patsy with A wide grin, eating **** For us all our lives So we can die quiet. There is only the boring struggle of Day after day, Unleavened by miracles, Made bearable Only by love. By the love we give, and that which we receive. That blood we are given. That bread we break, every day.