Lily Poole
By Jack O'Donnell
A ground-breaking blend of ghost story, murder mystery and Scottish social drama
Monday, 22 December 2014
a terrible idea at this time of year!
I wrote three novels
plots for three plays
radio-series that ends in nine ways
In my head
In my bed
When nobody spoke
Laughed out loud at a joke
So cruel my sphincter began to unspool
My characters filled me with so much glee
They seemed to be more me than me
American producers added glitter to my shine
‘Unique Voice’ the Booker panel surmised
Fingers reached out to clutch the Nobel
Daylight the only surprise
I go to my desk and wait
Darkness
It’s getting late
Diet Coke and tea don’t work their magic
A drink of writers’ tragic steadies my hand
The Bard in my forehead begins to expand
My head drops
Snuffle like the child-catcher sniffing out clues
Only one stop from the idea’s shop –
I’m turfed
rhyming nightcap with night-crap
Language the cruellest joke
Hominids and homonyms for foolish folk
Queer-text at the best of times
Let it snore!
Let it snore!
Let is snore!
Merry Xmas.
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