Praising St Pancras (in public)
I did Saturday Live yesterday. Two poems to write at short notice. It can seem difficult, but it used to be three. Everything’s relative. It’s not just time and space. Mainly time and space, though.
The first poem – no more than 30 seconds, please – can be about anything as long as it’s half-to-three-quarters-way topical. I always struggle to come up with something for this. I have to ask people: what’s topical? It’s another relativity issue. Anyway, I wrote about St Pancras. It’s exciting that St Pancras is thriving again, as an international travel portal. Well, I’m excited. I’ve not actually been there, although I’d like to, and I shall.
I toyed with writing about the Tutankhamun Exhibition that’s currently on tour. There’s a lot to be said about the mummified remains of the 12th ruler of ancient Egypt’s 18th dynasty, perpetually 19-years old in the public imagination, effortlessly glamorous, mysterious, still pulling in the punters. But no, I opted simply to praise St Pancras. It’s just over 100 words but it reads quickly.
We’ve all been where you’re standing, we’ve stood there, St Pancras
Stood empty and friendless, neglected and thankless
And you’ve stood forlorn as the powers-that-be scorned you
Both persons of rank and us ordinary punters
How you must have hungered and hankered, St Pancras
For the life you have now, for arrivals, departures
For lovers to linger beneath your grand arches
But now you’re emerging, refurbished, resurgent
Your platforms buffed up and washed down with detergent
And you welcome us all, from near and from far
To your cathedral grandeur, your new champagne bar
St Pancras – you know what you are
You’re a star.
I tried to make the pun of the last line a gettable option, but I’m not sure that I did. Nobody groaned. Not outwardly. If you read this and you know what I’m talking about, please tell me. I’d be grateful for any comment at all, frankly. I’m new to this. I’m not looking for praise, just human contact in the blogosphere…