Wondermentalist

Before the interval, after the Dead Poets’ Slam, I ask the audience to set a theme for the collaborative poem. I never know what to expect. The first suggestion took me by surprise. ‘Penises’. Why should I be surprised? I’d asked for a concrete (as opposed to abstract) noun. Penises qualify. Then someonesaid ‘pasties’, fair enough, and someone else said ‘male genitalia’ – as if they really hadn’t understood what was being asked of them. Interesting. The audience eventually settled on ‘handbag’. When it came to the voting – the informal expressing of a preference – there was a very muted response for penises, which, again, surprised me. I’d honestly thought they’d generate more enthusiasm, not in themselves but as subjects for a ‘what are you like?’ poem. but they didn’t, and there’s an end to it.

Here’s the poem as put together by Beryl the Feral and read out on the night. A standard was maintained, I’d say.

Glambag, handbag, miscellaneous slam bag

An unnecessary accessory

Nosebags for the donkey that is the female ego

Holder of all secrets tawdry and sublime

Collector of tickets and old lipstick slime

Clutter collector, essentials dispenser

Incontinent cornucopia of miscellaneous Matter

A repository for a suppository, a pessary or a tampax

Essential survival sack for seriously extreme shoppersssssss

All of life is here, and a bit extra

A lonely lady’s dance floor respite

Labyrinthine conundrums

A portable black hole, a tiny tardis with a Gucci label

Prada – a larder for Pina Colada

When the floods come, my handbag can be a sandbag

Clutch, clasp, a place fro the rasp

A grand in a handbag is worth two in a busted sack

All the world is  handbag, with pockets and corners and zippers

In black leather to match my mood

Hard and horny like a crocodile’s winkle picker

Mother confessor, diary professor, pen and ink, kitchen sink

Handbag, sandbag, old bag, bagman, douche bag, swag bag

Men confusers, lipstick losers

A place for things I’ve never needed

Accessory of mass Oestruction

Weapon of man’s destruction

Dense dark dangler

Not a penis though,

The Queen always carries a handbag – it always looks empty…

On 24 April at Totnes’ Royal Seven Stars Matt plays host to a comedy-rich basket of wondermental things, featuring…

Nathan Filer – Bristol’s funniest performance poet by three-quarters – and Stephen Park – putting the ‘art’ into ‘nothing in particular’.

The evening also boasts the return of Jerri Hart, plus house band Nomad Shuffle, the Dead Poets’ Slam, and the continuing adventures of Empath Man (now with profoundly moving theme song)

Tickets are available from the usual outlets – Harlequin Bookshop and the Seven Stars itself, or reserve them online from matt.harvey@copperstrings.com