Wednesday, 19 November 2014

New poem: Radio

When I’m on my own I like to leave the radio on in

another room. I keep it at a level where I can’t hear

the words, just the sound of words. The other day

I was busy thinking, but the radio was putting me off. I

went in to the room in order to switch it off. In the

room there was a woman interviewing a man. The

man was lying on the floor. She was asking him if he

saw the car. ‘Did you see the car?’ she said.

He said, ‘I’m not on benefits.’

She said, ‘I’m not asking you that. I’m trying to find out

about the incidence of accidents.’

I said, ‘I’m trying to find out about the incidence of


She said, ‘This is an accident black spot.’

I got in very quickly: ‘“Treasure Island”!’

The man lying on the floor said, ‘The Black Spot!’

That’s it. It’s all over.’

She said, ‘I don’t think it’s as bad as that,you’re

just a bit shaken up.’

‘Robert Louis Stevenson!’ I said very quickly.

She looked at me.

I said, ‘The ‘Louis’ is pronounced ‘Lewis’ but spelt

L,O,U,I.S. Lewis. Though when you say it quickly you

don’t know. It could be Louis or Lewis.

RobertLouisStevenson. Like that. On its own, though,

you could tell. Lewis. But spelt, L,O.U.I.S.’

We spent a few minutes practising saying