On Saturday I was at a writing day at the Poetry Society, led by Ann and Peter Sansom, who put us through our paces in a series of rapid fire exercises. In one, we were asked to imagine an abandoned item, something forgotten or neglected, and write in its voice. Unfortunately I find myself turning to slapstick on these occasions.
Hello?*
I am that knick-knack
you picked up in Spain
You know –
The thing you laughed over
and couldn’t resist, that afternoon
when you were probably
drunk
on the local Sangria
or too much blue sky
made from bull horn
decked out like a matador
red ribbons and brass buttons
I was just one tinkly gift
on a crowded shelf You could have hung me in your kitchen
or in the hall, with pride
a perpetual reminder of
one night in Mojacar Hello?
Don’t you have any shoes?
*of course it should have been Ola – as pointed out by Ann
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