Here’s the thing. Englynion are a form of Welsh poem. There are eight distinct types. If I did them all that’d be over a week of poetry forms in the bag.
But they are notoriously difficult to make work in English. In Welsh, apparently, they are poetic as hell, but in English they just… fall flat.
And it’s true. After a few false starts I just decided to go for a really unpoetic subject so at least I couldn’t make it worse. I don’t think I can subject myself or anyone else to seven more of these.
Here’s one, though, based on a horrible anecdote about a well known budget supermarket…
The girl working at the till
Is making me feel quite ill
The way she behaves is filling me
With disgust. Just give me the bill!
I silently beg. But I fail,
As she scans my cheese and kale,
To hold back a despairing wail of dread
As she picks at her teeth with her nail.
She looks up as if to say
“What?”. I ask “Are you… OK?”
She sighs, and tells me “All day something’s
Been stuck. It won’t go away.”
This seems like an overshare.
She tells me “It’s right back in there”
She picks her teeth. I can’t stop staring as
She reaches and pulls out a hair.
I’m horrified, at a loss:
This girl doesn’t give a toss!
In between scanning goods and gossiping,
She’s used her hair as floss.
She continues, unconcerned.
This mental image is burned
Into my brain as I am turned off food.
How can she not have learned
About personal hygiene?
I do not want to seem mean
But I really am not keen to come back.
Unclean! Unclean! Unclean!
Tom Juniper Poetry 