from the phone of the poet laureate

Andrew Motion, the Poet Laureate is always keen to exploit new technologies and new media. This mornng, whilst on the train to London, he wrote a four-part epic on his mobile phone using the T9 entry system.

The Train, part 1

Send me to hell on
a National Express train
Down to London
And then back home
On one again

The Train, part 2

Sat next to a man with a cold
And no tissues
Or manners
So he sneezes over me
Spreading germs liberally
Wiping his nose
On his hand
And his Blackberry

Come, Shenfield and silver my day
Come, Liverpool Street, you City of Gold
Steal me away from this man
And his liquid nose-cold

The Train, part 3

Welcome to Gidea Park
Says the sign
But like the cheap suits in Coach G
It lies

The Train, part 4

With your sporting pretence
Just a muddy building site
Olympic-ringed by an electric fence

And now the terminal station
Nearly in view
Round next corner
200 yards
45 minutes left to go
Go slow
No go

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