COMPETITION

Perverse verse

Tom Castro

In Competition No. 1527 you were asked to supply a short poem perversely con- tinuing from some famous line.

In 1955, Competition No. 285 asked more specifically for perverse epigrams, among the winners of which was Douglas Hawson's

Swallow my sister, 0 sister swallow Swallow the pills both small and great, Swallow the tablets, the doses swallow For all is free in the Welfare State.

Andrew McEvoy reminds me of a New Statesman competition from 1974 asking for two-liners, which attracted such entries as Brendan Gorse's

Break off, break off this last lamenting kiss, I'm absolutely dying for a piss.

And there was another New Statesmen competition a decade earlier to which June Langfield contributed

Full fathom five my father lies His Aqualung was the wrong size.

This time round there was a large entry, for the most part intentionally and success- fully humorous. There was also a marked leaning to obscenity (Basil Ransome- Davies unfortunately fell on the wrong side of that fence). The commonest failing was to rely upon mere parody or to construct an original poem whose initial line was quite accidental to the continuation. Thank you to the anonymous entrant who sent 64 sets of verses beginning, 'Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?' in an effort to aid the RAF Benevolent Fund. Other favourite beginnings were, 'Fear no more the heat o' the sun', 'I wandered lonely as a cloud', 'The expense of spirit in a waste of shame', 'Drink to me only with thine eyes', and 'I met a traveller from an antique land'.

Those printed below get £1 for every line, and the bonus bottle of Anares Tinto Rioja, kindly presented by Atkinson Bald- win and Co, St Mary's House, 42 Vicarage Crescent, London SW11, goes to Carole Angier.

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love you when you tell me I am right And admit that you have started every fight; When you forgive my clumsiness, and praise My driving, cooking, French and mayonnaise. I love you when I'm feeling very tight. I love you when you're safely out of sight And leave me to recall our yesterdays. I love you when you laugh at something funny, I love you when you treat the children fairly, I love you when, unasked, you give me money. I've counted, now — a dozen ways, just barely. That's half a way per year together, honey: Our love is rare, because I love thee rarely.

(Carole Angier) The mountain sheep are sweeter, But I note, with perturbation, Is it really wise to eat a Lamb that's full of radiation? (John Stanley) Shall I compare thee to a summer's day Young sociologist, verbose and trendy? Then would I choose the twenty-fifth of May: So dull it was, unduly wet and windy.

(Ralph Sadler) You think it horrible that lust and rage Should populate my tabloid page? If tits and righteous anger swell The circulation — what the hell?

(Bowen Bradings) Say not the struggle naught availeth, For nobody will have a clue.

`The struggle is of no avail,'

Will still connect with very few.

Deep words turn people off, you see, So better say, 'It's NBG.' (Noel Petty) The Chief Defect of Henry King (We'll call him) was his quickening . . . Quick, burn (he would have been a drag!) These pieces in a plastic bag.

Hippocrates, you'd weep to guess What's covered by the NHS.

(Alan Bancroft) Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths, I'd search them carefully for moths Bears great and small are much inclined To infestations of the kind.

Cassiopeia should take care No woodworm's wandering in her chair, And goodness knows what bugs may stray, Voracious of the Milky Way. (Mary Holtby) One crowded hour of glorious life Goes best with someone else's wife.

(David Climie) Fear no more the heat o' the sun. August Bank Holiday's begun. (June Langfield) Where are the snows of yesteryear? God only knows; they're no longer here.

And can you explain why this year some more'!! Be falling again, and again in the plural? (David Cram) He did not wear his scarlet coat, Deeming it rather loud, He wore a lemon-stripe instead Of which he was quite proud.

The MFH had him disbarred; He left under a cloud. (C. J. D. Doyle) A cold coming we had of it, Wearily bumping and grinding, And two or three times we nearly quit.

Don't judge a book by its binding!

(Mortimer Spreader) Jenny kissed me when we met; I could well have lived without it!

Nor have I decided yet Quite what I should do about it.

Twice again she tried today! - (Can't the silly girl resist me?) So I swerved — and hip, hooray!

Jenny missed me. (T. A. Hunter)