Francis Heaney asked a simple question: what would happen if poets and playwrights wrote works whose titles were anagrams of their names?
The result: Holy Tango Anthology of Literature. Here's one of his gems:
IS A SPERM LIKE A WHALE?
Shall I compare thee to a sperm whale, sperm?
Thou art more tiny and more resolute:
Rough tides may sway a sea-bound endotherm,
But naught diverts thy uterine commute.
Sometime too fierce the eye of squid may glint
And make a stout cetacean hunter quail;
Methinks ’twould take much more than bilious squint
To shake thee off the cunning ovum’s trail.
Yet still thou art not so unlike, thou two,
Both coursing through a dark uncharted brine
While fore and aft there swims thy fellow crew;
And note this echo, little gamete mine:
As whales spray salty water from their spout,
So with a salty spray dost thou come out.