COMPETITION

Treble tanka

Jaspistos

IN COMPETITION NO. 2020 you were invited to supply a treble `tanka' entitled either 'Finders Keepers' or 'Blind Date'.

2020 — the year in which Updike's new novel is set, and the symbol of perfect eye- sight — proved a humdinger of a comp. I make way for as many prizewinners as can be fitted in. Very bad luck, Ray Kelley and W.J. Webster. The prizewinners, printed below, get £20 each, and the bottle of The Macallan The Malt Scotch whisky is Noel Petty's.

I understand from The Psychopathology of Everyday Life that what is carelessly left is subconsciously disowned. Thus it must be deemed

an act of altruism

to locate such things and assign them to people who value them more highly.

Hence, I dedicate my life to this noble work, finding new carers for untended artefacts.

Motor cars, for example. (Noel Petty)

The ebb tide at dusk, Water shushing on wet sand; Gulls float in a line Against a sun which almost Touches its own reflection.

Karaoke sounds Drift from the Royal Lido; This is Prestatyn - Philip Larkin came here once And made it sound pretty bad.

On the beach, only An old man who looks for food: He finds some cold chips And a purse full of banknotes; He looks at the sea, and smiles.

(Gordon Gwilliams) What does five p buy? Once it was called a shilling - A bob to its friends And a bob was worth having.

Not now, though. That's inflation. Thirty-two inches Was my waist measurement then, Believe it or not.

Today it's quite a bit more.

That also is inflation.

If I drop five p,

The two kinds of inflation Both say, 'Don't bend down.

Not worth the effort.' I shrug.

Let it lie. Finders keepers. (Keith Norman) A poor man chances upon a twenty-pound note fluttering in air, seizes the same, pockets it; at once, he's apprehended.

A rich man happens upon a crooked sixpence twinkling in the dust, plucks it up and stashes it; he wanders away, scot-free.

Justice is like that: it has its priorities as straight as corkscrews, is much obsessed with paper, but is not bothered with change.

(Bill Greenwell) Her sister brought him.

`Sorting two birds with one stone' Was how she put it.

They had a few drinks at home And went to find a curry.

His voice was honest.

She read his face with her hand: All the news seemed good.

He told her about his spine; She didn't feel it mattered.

Wheelchair and white stick, One as blind as the other, Away they blundered Down the ramp of the future.

Two birds. One stone. Well sorted.

(Michael Swan) A table for two At a shiny new West Kensington restaurant.

Tara Palmer-Tomkinson Is sometimes on view.

Platitudes over,

I eat my Dover

Sole as she looks at her watch.

I order a second scotch.

My face goes mauver.

I knock back a few.

'I drink I like you.'

She pays half, makes for the door.

This hasn't happened before.

No chance of a screw. (S.J. Massey) He might be a young Adonis or Hercules - Witty and with charm;

I hope for more than simply

To escort a friend's friend's friend.

In reality, He's like Quasimodo's son Without the humour: He wipes his nose on his sleeve, Wont' meet my gaze. Talk falters.

Wisely, he does not Mention another meeting.

At home, my mirror Shows Dracula's sister's face With spinach leaves on her teeth. (M.E. Ault)