Friday, November 17, 2006

There Was A Young Lady From Bude..


Oh for a muse of fire...

I'm honing my undoubted skills as a poet so I can get an Arts Council grant for a winter break.

The Council has just given £7,000 to a poet from Derbyshire so he can go out to Australia for the cricket tests and write some doggerel. They were apparently impressed by his "Old Trafford Treatment Room Chant" to the "Football Poets" project, another tax-funded wheeze:

"Composed to the rhythm of the conga (and slightly dated since the Manchester United striker Wayne Rooney's recovery from the injury) it goes: "Meta-meta-metatarsal, Meta-meta-metatarsal!"

Umm... look I know I'm just learning, but does that actually scan to the conga? I thought the conga went da-da da-da daaa-daa. Not da-da da-da da-da daaa-daa.

£7 grand! Of our money. Can you believe it? Even old Humphrys on Today this morning was taken aback. The poet himself justified it by saying the BBC would benefit because he would be supplying some of the work to BBC Radio Derby. Well, that's OK then. One tax-funded outrage supporting another.

Anyway...

There was a young man from Caracas,
Who fell over and crushed his marraccas...

PS Can you name any great tax-funded poetry? And I don't count working for the public sector as a librarian. As we all know, your ideal poet needs to live on kitchen scraps in a rat-infested attic.

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