If so, you may be

ode conversation.

A clatter of the letter box and a thud on the doormat told me that the January issue of Well Versed – The Quarterly Magazine for the Discriminating Poet had arrived. An occasion always greeted with much anticipation and no little excitement on my part for not only does it give me the opportunity to keep up with the latest developments in the poetry world (sample articles in this issue include ‘How to get the most out of your Pindaric Ode’, ‘Troubleshooting Double Dactyls’ and ‘How to Have Fun with Clerihews’) but I always experience a brief frisson of hope that one of my poems might at last be featured within its pages.

The theme for January’s competition was ‘Wind’ and I had high hopes for my two entries – ‘Breezy Listening’ and ‘Forgive Me Father For I Have Wind’ – but instead, there on page 3 was a photograph of a leering Toby Salt, alongside his winning poem, ‘Theogony and the Ecstasy’:

A rock for a jail

and nothing but the wind for company.

O Aeolian confidante! Dry my salty locks

and whisper the world into my ear.

The latest stockmarket news.

A child strangled. The shaming of a politician.

And all the snarling of the gutter press.

The jingle of my jailor’s keys as they bounce upon his thigh.

But no. These chains. This rock.

What do you bring exactly? Only betrayal.

The dread beat of accipitrine wings,

the daily agonies

and my ripped-out liver,

shining at my feet,

surrounded by rock pools, ruby-red.

I have now read this poem seven times and I understand it a little less each time.

Tuesday January 23rd

William Wordsearch

I have concluded that the whole notion of making competitions out of poetry merely serves to debase the artform. I’m seriously thinking about cancelling my subscription to Well Versed.

Wednesday January 24th

I had forgotten that it’s book group tomorrow!

After work, I pedalled furiously to the bookshop, swerving suddenly to avoid a collision with a Transit van, in the hope that they had J. G. Ballard’s Crash in stock. They did! While I was there, I bought a few other books: three more Ballard novels; a brief introduction on how to read poetry; A Dream Dictionary to ‘unlock the secrets of your subconscious’; 1001 Books You Must Read Before You Die; and a self-help guide entitled How To Organise Your Mind So You Can Organise Your Life. Annoyingly, I couldn’t find this last book in my bag when I got home. I think I may have left it behind on the counter.

Crash is 208 pages. I have some speed-reading to do; I just need to be careful I don’t take a page too fast and career into the margins.

Thursday January 25th