The Five Litre Poets are essentially gentlemen of leisure, indulging themselves in pointless verse. They are able to do this because in early life they sold themselves to Mammon and earned a tidy crust.  In the main they are ridiculed by friends and spouses alike and occasionally, but not often they have self doubt.  The following could have been written by a disgruntled spouse.

He was a dull husband
And a gloomy poet
Who should have stuck to making money
And buying popularity
He was good at that.
You can’t eat poetry
Or wear it round your neck.
The only doors it opens
Are to the hovels of other pointless poets.
Or to drive you out of yours.
So now lie quietly beneath the turf
Forgotten, like your gloomy verse