Barnstaple Conversation

Me: (Handing out flyers on Boutport Street):

Please come along and see my show

You: (Looking at the flyer in disbelief):

Is it going to be all in emoji though?

Me: (Perhaps a little unhelpfully):


You: (In the circs quite reasonably):

So, what’s it about?

Me: (in a friendly and not at all aggressive tone,

that makes you think that when all’s said and done

I might just be alright):

Come and find out.

You: (speaking to your friends and/or family):

Well he’s not going to sell many tickets, is he?

Your friends and/or family: (Gleefully):

It’s free

You: (Slightly annoyed at the direction this is taking)

That actually wasn’t the point I was making

Me: (Butting in quite rudely, but let’s be honest,

to put it crudely I want the best,

and you, your friends, your family, and the rest

look like the audience of my dreams):


You: (Showing your usual discretion and taste,

your wicked sense of humour, your passion and grace,

sense of adventure, flashing eyes and modesty,

and perhaps above all, your immunity to flattery):

Let’s go see:

All: (in one voice, cheesy but laced with irony) The Uses of Poetry”

Me: (Gratuitously):

It’s free.


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