Lady Felicia Strope's Poetry Agony Column

 

 

Q. Dear Lady Felicia,

 

My husband and I live in a small, end-of-terrace house in Walsall. He works intermittently in retail. I am a severely house-bound house-poet of long standing - I mean sitting, of course. Our working hours are gruesomely incompatible. He returns from Debenhams Local at 10pm - he was never one for supping and womanising till all hours with the menfolk. That is the moment when the rampant poetry virus usually has me in its grip in the dining room, which also triples as our study and larder/kitchen. My books and papers are everywhere, wildly spread as the sea. When, bursting through the door with his inane fat grin, he sees me like this, words in odd orders streaming all over the place, he begins to roar and then to rend my manuscripts with his remaining three black teeth. Do you have any help for us? I so much want to nurture the virus as and when.

 

Amanda Gage

 

Answer 


My dear darling Amanda,


The fastest to work would be MOGADON, which is available from GLAXOSMITHKLONE in flat-packed, fat-strapped pillule-packs of 144 a pop. That would cost you £79.50. If you buy it directly through Strop & Strope, we can almost certainly guarantee you a retrospective discount of 20%, should you choose to re-order in the future. That should lay him out until he needs to be roused for that so called 'work' of his.

 

Yours,

 

Felicia Strope

 

Q. Dear Lady Felicia,

 

My wife Erma and I lead a sequestered life in the former coal-mining belt of Nottinghamshire. I heaved coal all my working life. Since the terrible winter of 1963, Erma and I have spent all our leisure hours working on an extended Petrarchan sonnet sequence about the decline of the coal industry. About five years ago we hit a terrible wall which we have not yet succeeded in breaching: the vernacular of the coal mining industry, rich as it is when the glasses move from hand to hand, gives us little flexibility in the matter of rhyme words. Can you advise us what steps we should take to move the sequence forward? We are now both seventy-seven years of age, and we dread tumbling sideways into the grave, hand in hand, with the sequence not only unfinished, but also unpublished.

 

Ronald Makeshift

 

Answer

Dear Ronald,


I would suggest that you fling open the back door and see what is to be seen out there. If there is a dog at the fag end of your meagre property, chase it. If a woman walks by - of no matter what age - wolf-whistle her. In short: get yourself a life, man.

 

Q. Dear Lady Felucca [sic],


I am employed as a night cleaner in a local industrial intoxicants factory. When I return from work at 6.30am, whistling as I walk, it is then that I begin work on the poetry. That is the hour when I experience what I can only describe as a poetry surge. In recent weeks my maddening husband has taken it upon himself to buy and then partially install a new set of black louvred blinds in my work room. He insists on keeping these blinds closed night and day in order, as he explains 'it' to me, to maintain the lowest possible light levels, lest his precious collection of early nineteenth century watercolours (which adorn the walls suffer six-deep) suffer irreparable damage. This means that, having in former times entered a room full of the promise of morning, I now return to a space plunged into the crepuscular gloom of oncoming night. The poetry impulse has been arrested and, needless to say, I find myself in dire straits. What would you recommend.

 

Nora Filmington

 

Answer

 

I would recommend that you carefully loosen the screws in the first, third and fifth rungs of the aluminium ladder -  just to be absolutely safe.

 

 

Dear Lady Felicia,

 
My frisky young partner has taken to using my precious personal copy of Babette Deutsch's Poetry Handbook as a fly swat during the summer months. What would you suggest that I do?

 

Dirk Kampf

 

Answer

Buy him a mock-up of the very same book for his birthday.


Dear Lady Felicia,


Our precious younger son Eamon never stops versifying, morning to night. No surface is safe from the fruits of his green felt tips. He has a particular fondness for translating the Imitations of Martial. In fact, the poet Martial has so taken possession of his mind and his body that, having first dressed himself top to toe in full Roman military regalia, he struts and sings as he writes, clip board and the usual bristle of stubby felt tips in hand. Yesterday he kicked his leg up so high that he dislodged the plaster bust of Tennyson that has lived beside the ormolu clock in the inglenook since my childhood. Can you offer us any help?

 

Answer


I have already done so. A representative from the local recruiting office should have appeared at your door this morning.

 

 

If you too have POETRY ISSUES, large or small, mild or severe, that you wish to share with Lady Felicia Strope, the world's only fully-police-checked Poetry Agony Aunt, please do not hesitate to get in touch!