Toby Litt

I found Toby Litt's piece in today's Observer interesting: a bit of good luck being in Prague in 1990 and deciding become a writer. He's on the staff of the MA in CW at Birkbeck.

A poem to die for - literally

The 'democratic' Republic of Kurdistan is no place to write poems critical of the President.

Catch my Drift

...by Lyrispect

It's the Met Police again - a true story

I live in a ground-floor studio flat in a council block.

I am awoken abruptly this morning at 8:45 by banging on my door.

“Who’s there?” I inquire grumpily.

From the corridor, “Police”

“Not again”, to myself. More knocking.

“Hang on” I throw a shirt and jeans on.

More persistent and much louder banging on door. I open up and am confronted by six male police officers

“Are you Mr R...?”

Before they get a chance to go any further, I intervene brimming with anger and righteous indignation,

“I’m fed up with this; this is the second time in a year I’ve been woken by the police looking for various suspects...”

"How long have you been here?"

“Five years...five years to the week and this is the second time I’ve been woken recently by police banging on the door and demanding me to open up immediately and wanting to know about somebody I’ve never heard of... I’m sick of it... you need to get your database sorted out”. I ‘m gesturing with my right hand to emphasise the point, palm facing chest, as I do when giving a powerpoint presentation.

The one closest to me with jet black hair, who seems to be leading the posse says - and who looks oddly familiar -

“You’ve raised your voice and made an intimidating gesture at me”

“What are you talking about?”

“You pointed your finger at me. That is an intimidating gesture.”

“ It's not me who's intimidating, I'm naturally angry. Who is the highest ranking officer here?” I ask.

A fair-haired one says “We’re all the same...”

“Well I want to report this.”

The dark-haired one then says,

“We’re looking for someone called R.... He was reported for assault by a woman who gave us this address”.

Well...why does this happen to me all the time? You need to find out why she gave you the wrong address. I’m a law-abiding citizen. I’ve never had a problem with the law. I’m a graduate - an english graduate, I say pathetically as if graduates, and more precisely english graduates don’t carry out assaults, like the way priests were never thought to do wrong.

Then Fair-haired says, “I’m a graduate too”.

My neighbour - a big guy with big feet, emerges from around the corner and suggests,

“it might have something to do with the previous tenant.”

I had been tipped-off that the previous tenant was apparently ‘known’ to the local constabulary. Fair-haired then asks my name and date of birth, presumably to look me up on their rotten database. I stupidly give it to him.

Another one says,

“Maybe it’s the address, are you on the electors register?”

“Five years on the register at this address”, I say.

Dark-haired then gives me his tag number, a “CAB” number and the name of his station. They leave, and I shut the door.

Till the next time...

Election UK - Clegg Unique Opportunity

I voted for the Liberal Democrats because they were against the invasion of Iraq and they are in favour of proportional representation. I believe that despite the disappointing election result for the Lib Dems - which is hardly surprising since most electors are afraid that under the undemocratic 'first past the post' system in the UK at present their votes will be wasted. This is because Britain sometimes resembles an elective dictatorship. Clegg uniquely has an opportunity to change this. He must demand, as a quid pro quo of supporting (hopefully Labour under a new leader) that there is an immediate change in the constitution to introduce PR (hopefully STV version). If this requires a referendum, then so be it.