Political Intelligence

Nobody said Apples for nearly a minute
I thought I should die.
Finally, though, the second sardine,
from the end, on the left,
converted a try.
(It brought down the house.
The noise was terrific.
I dropped my glass eye.)

Meanwhile Mr BaIdwin
managed to make himself heard.
He looked sad
but with characteristic aplomb said
keep calm there is no cause for alarm.
Two soldiers' crutches had sexual intercourse
on the spot with a little bit of fluff
from a lint bandage in the firing chamber
of a 12 inch gun.
People agreed not to notice.
The band played a little bit louder.
It was all very British.

by Arthur James Marshall Smith

Other poems of SMITH (1)

Comments (9)

My mother always called me Blot. I always believed she had little love for me but when I read this poem I felt uplifted. An interesting way to try to define love. Child or otherwise.
The man is grovelling and asking for pity. How pathetic.What woman could respect such a slug.
The linguistic vulgarity attributed to the lesser Keats is never more clear than here- confusion of intention the usual prompt of such a trait.. It's useful to re-read this really quite awful poem in that light. MM
Unmasked. A master piece.
Highly descriptive. A master's poem
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