by Robin Boothroyd

One of my recent aims, as mentioned here, has been to write gift-poems for my nearest and dearest. Here’s one that I gave my friend Dan Harding, based on a true event.


‘The Banana Skin’

for Dan Harding 

Of course you told it deadpan,
as is your way, as if nothing,
in fact, had even happened,
(although I’m sure you enjoyed
the irony); but I was struck
by the rib-achingly funny
ridiculousness of it: you,
stepping down into the gutter,
wiping out like an amateur surfer.
Slapstick. I bet you stood up
instantly, all smiles, sheepish,
and straightened your glasses
on the bridge of your nose.


I wish I’d seen it. I’ll have to settle for a poem instead. Dan owns the anything-goes-and-everything-brilliant record label Stella Mortos.