Poems and Songs

A Selector's Lot

When the Old Town Traffic Warden isnít sticking, isnít sticking

Little tickets on my car with baleful squint,

From his files of colour negatives heís picking, he is picking

Those he thinks might make an exhibition print.

His pictorial ambitions I will smother, I will smother,

I will blight his hopes and spoil his joy and fun.

Oh, take one consideration with another, with another,

A selectorís lot is such a happy one.. 

When my friendly tax collector isnít posing, isnít posing

Nasty questions re my last expense accounts,

He is busy by his dark-room lamp exposing, lamp exposing

Twelve by sixteens in fantastical amounts.

And I know that I could save him all the bother, all the bother

For his chances of acceptance total - none!

Oh, take one consideration with another, with another

A selectorís lot is such a happy one.

 When the politicianís finished coyly beaming, coyly beaming

In the hope Iíll put my cross against his name,

He is peering through his Leica and heís dreaming, he is dreaming

That his photographic skill will bring him fame,

Iíve ,a cross against his name all right, oh bother, right oh bother

And his prints will be rejected every one.

Oh take one consideration with another,

 A selectorís lot is such a happy one..

ďKo-koĒ

1984

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