First, here’s a link to a poem about a streaker Matt Harvey read on his Radio 4 Wondermentalist a couple of weeks ago (episode #2) that made me cry with laughter as I was listening on iPlayer as I chopped onions for a bolognaise. (The onions may also have influenced my tear ducts, admittedly). And episode #3 had a fantastic audience participation poem, on gerbils. Might see if I can find that on the Wondermentalist site, later.
I’m finding my way around this bloggy world, now. Expect a few weird changes as I play with themes and so on – and formatting, especially of poetry. Meanwhile, here’s one of those poems from Ink, Sweat and Tears mentioned in my last blog post. (I had tried to paste the poem, but the formatting was wrong and I didn’t have time to deal with it then.)
Old Etonian Recipe
In an insulated atmosphere, sift
blue blood, old gold, new media, testosterone:
time-honoured recipe for today.
Do NOT stir.
Allow to rise and rise and rise and rise –
groundlings may lick-up trickle-down Mess.
* “Eton Mess” = broken meringue, whipped cream and strawberries.