I have never entered a poetry competition in my thirty years of writing. Recently, perhaps due to my involvement with the study of digital literature and digital poetics etc, I have begun to receive a lot of emails and messages about various such competitions. Me being me, I decided to write a short sort of traditional poem about that this evening.. I stuck up a first draft below:
I wrote and sent the raw draft poem below to my ‘Sure I’m no feckin’ poet’ friend of mine this morning, I got his almost by now usual response – i.e. “ It might be alright – when/if you finish/edit/burn/make/bin it, poetry is about what anyway, have you a title yet, why did you write it like that – where’s that tenner you owe me?"