Ten Ways to Avoid Lending Your Wheelbarrow to Anybody -- Adrian Mitchell

 From the irresistible-followup-dept.:

(Poem #623) Ten Ways to Avoid Lending Your Wheelbarrow to Anybody 1 PATRIOTIC May I borrow your wheelbarrow? I didn't lay down my life in World War II so that you could borrow my wheelbarrow. 2 SNOBBISH May I borrow your wheelbarrow? Unfortunately Lord Goodman is using it. 3 OVERWEENING May I borrow your wheelbarrow? It is too mighty a conveyance to be wielded by any mortal save myself. 4 PIOUS May I borrow your wheelbarrow? My wheelbarrow is reserved for religious ceremonies. 5 MELODRAMATIC May I borrow your wheelbarrow? I would sooner be broken on its wheel and buried in its barrow. 6 PATHETIC May I borrow your wheelbarrow? I am dying of schizophrenia and all you can talk about is wheelbarrows. 7 DEFENSIVE May I borrow your wheelbarrow? Do you think I'm made of wheelbarrows? 8 SINISTER May I borrow your wheelbarrow? It is full of blood. 9 LECHEROUS May I borrow your wheelbarrow? Only if I can fuck your wife in it. 10 PHILOSOPHICAL May I borrow your wheelbarrow? What is a wheelbarrow? -- Adrian Mitchell

 From 'The Apeman Cometh', 1975.

[Martin's commentary]

Another brilliant poem from Mitchell. Thomas has called Mitchell his
favourite contemporary poet, and while I wouldn't go that far, there's no
denying that his is an unusually refreshing voice, blending humour and
cynicism with a power that prevents the former two from lapsing into
brittleness.

That same power raises what could have been merely a mildly amusing parody
of Stevens' Blackbird poem into a biting look at the hundred and one
convoluted ways people have of saying 'no'. The poem is hilarious as much
for its perceptiveness in cataloguing these turndowns as for the deft way
each is exaggerated to precisely the right extent. IMHO, one of Mitchell's
funniest works, and one that suffers not at all for being 'merely' a parody
of a more famous poem.

In fact, I'd hesitate to call this a parody, in that it doesn't draw upon
the original for anything other than the idea, and that having read the
original is unnecessary to appreciate it. It's more a poem *inspired* by
'Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird' - knowing the original will give
the reader a brief thrill of recognition, but add nothing else to the poem.

[My own commentary]

What, you want more? <g>

Actually, Martin's already covered most of what I wanted to say about this
poem. So I'll content myself with a few quick notes.

Firstly: No, I wouldn't call it a parody either. In fact, I'm pretty sure
the generic construct "n ways of doing x" was in currency well before
Stevens' magnificent poem; Mitchell's title is no more evidence of parody
than, say, Paul Simon's "50 ways to leave your lover". (That said, I would
be happy to be proven wrong).

Secondly: I must betray a certain curiosity as to who Martin's favourite
contemporary poet is. Spill the beans, do.

Thirdly and lastly: 'dying of schizophrenia' - ah, immortal phrase.

[Links]

Kenneth Koch, "Variations on a Theme by William Carlos Williams":
poem #278

A previous irresistible followup - Harold Monro, "Overheard on a Salmarsh":
poem #594. I'm sure there are more IFs elsewhere on the Minstrels, but
this was the only one I could remember offhand.

While we're on the ways-and-means theme, check out Edwin Brock's "Five Ways
to Kill a Man": poem #105

Other Mitchell poems:
poem #397
poem #337
poem #211
poem #95
poem #28

thomas.