[John Whitworth]

Bazza won the fiver as we all knew he would. Bill Greenwell and Marion Shore both took away prizes and I nearly did. Curses (personally) and congratulations (to our three splendid winners).

The new competition will do well I think.

No. 2664: In two minds
You are invited to submit a dialogue, in verse or prose (150 words/16 lines maximum), between two parts of yourself at odds with each other. Entries should be submitted, by email where possible, to lucy@spectator.co.uk by midday on 8 September.

By the way, Bazza, how did you know last night that Marion had won. Have you found a back door to the Speccie?

[basil ransome-davies]

Actually, John, I just googled 'Spectator competition 2661' before turning in. As Chief Dan George said, sometimes the magic works, sometimes it doesn't. Cyberspace is weird.

The new Speccie is meat & drink to us schizoids.

[Gail White]

What immediately comes to mind here is Villon's dialogue between the poet and his heart. Now, if I could only improve on that at half the length...

[John Whitworth]

You know I'm not greatly taken with this. Too overworked somehow. But here it is to get the ball rolling. I think I'll try again.

Gob and Bum

‘I’m his forever. He’s all mouth,’
My gob roars out. But further south,
‘I always knew that he would come
To his true friend,’ confides my bum.

My mush says, ‘It is always wise
To take long bouts of exercise.’
‘Much better lounge in comfort here,’
Insists my large, persuasive rear.

My cakehole shrieks at fever pitch
‘Take to the streets and hang the rich.’
My bottom mutters covertly
‘Sit tight old chap, and let it be.’

‘Which of us represents this man?’
‘Can we be reconciled?’ ‘We can.’
‘It has already come to pass.’
‘He talks,’ ‘Ah yes,’ ‘Out of his arse.’

Villon yes. And Marvell of course. These guys are a bit too disconcertingly GOOD.

[Orwn Acra]

John, that's really funny.

(Slightly overworked? A skosh, perhaps.)

[John Whitworth]

Why thank you, Orwn. Perhaps it's better than I thought. I composed it, as usual, in the swimming path, but hadn't taken on board that the thing was supposed to be a dialogue. So there had to be a lot of fixing and patching which rather pissed me off. (I believe the American for this is 'which rather pissed me'.)

I've done another one but I shall hold on to it at present.

Oh to Hell with it. No-one else is doing anything. Is it the weekend coming up?

Eyes and Ears

Behold my lady, fair and good,
The perfect flower of womanhood.
My admiration knows no bounds
Until she makes those vowel sounds.

She is a vision of such joy
She could command another Troy.
Her teeth and smiles may both be tops,
But have you heard her glottal stops?

And should you see her in her nightie,
She is a very Aphrodite…
Who takes the tongue that Shakespeare spoke
And warps it to a vulgar joke.

And in her naked skin so sweet
The angels crowd to kiss her feet.
Her mouth indeed is cherry-lipped,
But can she swear to keep it zipped?