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