| TO MY AGENT |
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There really is nothing for it. I have to become K N O W N. Before risking their cash, Publishers expect notoriety - The odd extra, like being buried alive, A prison sentence, a trip to the Moon. Shall I murder old gents and write in my cell? Slopping-out sounds unsavoury, Even in the cause of High Art. Shall I marry a star and divorce him For wearing a wig and a corset - A breach of the Consumer Act, surely? No. I will run a bawdy house, With plush chairs and curtains of red, For Councillors, Vicars and M.P.s. Since this is hardly the climate for silk, My girls will cavort in their thermals And serve hot toddy as they take you to bed. Maison Pauline will be such a success That the Press will fight for my doodles. Then finding Vice better-paid than Eng. Lit. I will use my poems to pad out my bra And retire to Lyme Regis, to be Queen Of the Shakespeare Casino and Bar. |
| Pauline Kirk was born in Birmingham, UK. She taught for a year at the Methodist Ladies' College, in Melbourne, Australia and then got a Teaching Fellowship in the Dept of English at Monash University for three years. She now lives in York, UK and is a partner in Fighting Cock Press. "To My Agent" is from her collection TRAVELLING SOLO. Her latest collection is OWLSTONE from Thalia Press. |
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Poem © Pauline Kirk, 1999 Web design by Gerald England This page last updated: 2nd October 2003. |