Something Nasty In The Bookshop
Between
the
Gardening
and
the
Cookery
Comes
the
brief
Poetry
shelf;
By
the
Nonesuch
Donne,
a
thin
anthology
Offers
itself.
Critical,
and
with
nothing
else
to
do,
I
scan
the
Contents
page,
Relieved
to
find
the
names
are
mostly
new;
No
one
my
age.
Like
all
strangers,
they
divide
by
sex:
Landscape
Near
Parma
Interests
a
man,
so
does
The
Double
Vortex,
So
does
Rilke
and
Buddha.
“I
travel,
you
see”,
“I
think”
and
“I
can
read"
These
titles
seem
to
say;
But
I
Remember
You,
Love
is
my
Creed,
Poem
for
J.,
The
ladies’
choice,
discountenance
my
patter
For
several
seconds;
From
somewhere
in
this
(as
in
any)
matter
A
moral
beckons.
Should
poets
bicycle-pump
the
human
heart
Or
squash
it
flat?
Man’s
love
is
of
man’s
life
a
thing
apart;
Girls
aren’t
like
that.
We
men
have
got
love
well
weighed
up;
our
stuff
Can
get
by
without
it.
Women
don’t
seem
to
think
that’s
good
enough;
They
write
about
it.
And
the
awful
way
their
poems
lay
them
open
Just
doesn’t
strike
them.
Women
are
really
much
nicer
than
men:
No
wonder
we
like
them.
Deciding
this,
we
can
forget
those
times
We
stayed
up
half
the
night
Chock-full
of
love,
crammed
with
bright
thoughts,
names,
rhymes,
And
couldn’t
write.
Kingsley Amis
Kingsley Amis, (born April 16, 1922, London, England—died October 22, 1995, London), novelist, poet, critic, and teacher who created in his first novel, Lucky Jim, a comic figure that became a household word in Great Britain in the 1950s. Amis was educated at the City of London School and at St. John’s College, Oxford (B.A., 1949). His education was interrupted during World War II by his service as a lieutenant in the Royal Corps of Signals. From 1949 to 1961 he taught at universities in Wales, England, and the United States.