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COMPETITION

Chester-

Jaspistos

IN COMPETITION NO. 1901 you were invited to submit a ballade with the refrain, 'What's happening to the world I know?'

The phrase was part of Sir Ronald Millar's apoplectic reaction to the recent misdeeds of the headmaster of Charter- house. 'It is turning upside down,' he wailed. 'Prostitutes? In Godalming? I can't believe it.' 0 ye of little faith!

A marvellous entry. Among the tough cheese contingent E. F. Bradford, Richard Blomfield and B.A. Young stood out, along with the usual hot regulars. This week's prizes (£20 per winner) all go to irregulars (I have allowed Richard Usborne a small licence). The bonus bottle of Isle of Jura Single Malt Scotch whisky goes to Annie Brooks for an unexpected show of romantic optimism.

Am I awake? Am I asleep?

There's water on the window-pane; 1 watch the droplets land and leap, The eddies form and form again: One must suppose that this is rain, But roofs and gardens are aglow And light reflects from hill and plain — What's happening to the world I know?

Time that was measured seems to creep And then becomes a high-speed train; I feel a strong desire to weep But oh, the pleasure in my pain!

On those once labelled 'blight' or 'bane' My sweetest smiles I now bestow; They seek to needle me in vain — What's happening to the world I know? Friends, am I drunk? am I insane?

I fell in love a week ago — And Reason's helpless to restrain What's happening to the world I know.

(Annie Brooks) The PM says I've gone too far, He must insist that I resign.

Goodbye to the official car And red despatch-box that was mine.

The secretary I took a shine To, lovely girl, has had to go; And though a fellow shouldn't whine, What's happening to the world I know?

was the Party's rising star, But now, disgraced, I'm in decline And not exactly popular.

(They never ask me out to dine These days.) In fact the party line Is that I don't exist, although I did see Michael Heseltine.

What's happening to the world I know?

He felt I was at fault. Well, Fine: But surely it's a damn poor show If a chap can't keep one concubine?

What's happening to the world I know?

(J.A. Pitt) I used to like to sit and stare, To watch a snail climb up a tree, To count the holes in a gruyere, The rice-grains in a kedgeree.

I think I learnt at Mother's knee To choose to take life quiet and slow.

But now? Goodbye tranquillity!

What's happening the world I know?

A mother's knee these days is bare — Sometimes, in film and on TV, Topped by a fleck of pubic hair.

Would my Mama, and such as she, Know words like, well, ***t?

Things fall apart, and cui bona? They plummet to a wrinkled sea.

What's happening to the world I know?

Prince, I'm arthritic, back and knee, Inclined to rage, self-pity, woe, Deafness and wetness. Don't ask me What's happening to the world. I know!

(Richard Usborne) Where has the Little Woman gone Who used to keep one's house so clean, With furniture that always shone; Who buffed one's shoes to perfect sheen, And reigned o'er hearth and home serene, Happy to wash and iron and sew And entertain with haute cuisine?

What's happening to the world I know?

For Modern Woman has moved on, And travels in a limousine And flies to Bonn and Washington, And vanquishes the Argentine.

This novel power, so unforeseen, Has brought us fellows nought but woe.

It's topsy-turvy, it's obscene — What's happening to the world I know?

Prince, let us mourn the Pleistocene, When husbands kept their wives in tow, With downcast eyes and decorous mien.

What's happening to the world I know?

(Jenny Ogilvie) Someone is taking you for mugs, Word on the street is 'No more deals'.

The pigs are pulling out the plugs,

Dawn raids, the lot. We've stopped the steals.

No, we're not open to appeals, I'm sorry, lads, you'll have to blow: The situation here reveals

What's happening to the world I know.

They fitted Fonzo first — their bugs Pick up the gen when someone squeals. They've brought the heavy mob, the thugs Who go for groins. Know how it feels? They've had me listening to their spiels — Me, I could tell them where to go To stop them barking at my heels.

What's happening to the world I know?

I'm into one of those ordeals,

Straight going's murder for a pro.

Can't even knock me off some wheels. What's happening to the world I know?

(Giles Ewing)

No. 1904: Cautionary tale

You are invited to submit, in prose or poet- ry (maximum 150 words or 16 lines), a story ending with the words: 'Never choose a genius for a friend.' Entries to 'Competi- tion No. 1904' by 19 October.