That’s marvelous. Thank you very much. Sorry to come barging in.
Well, we could lend you a parachute.
I am not a man you silly billy.
Nothing to do with me. I’m not in this show. This is show five - I’m not in until show eight.
Bloody Romans.
Aren’t you going to ask me why I rang the bell?
No. 1. The Larch.
But it was with more simple, homespun verses that McTeagle’s unique style first flowered.
Goodnight. Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding, ding, ding, ding.
To Ma Own beloved Lassie. A poem on her I7th Birthday. Lend us a couple of bob fill Thursday. I’m absolutely skint. But I’m expecting a postal order and I can pay you back as soon as it comes. Love Ewan.
Here on top of Edinburgh Castle, in conditions of extreme secrecy, men are being trained for the British Army’s first Kamikaze Regiment, the Queen’s Own McKamikaze Highlanders.
Since then, McTeagle has developed and widened his literary scope. Three years ago he concerned himself with quite small sums - quick bits of ready cash: sixpences, shillings, but more recently he has turned his extraordinary literary perception to much larger sums - fifteen shillings, £4. I2.6d… even nine guineas… But there is still nothing to match the huge sweep… the majestic power of what is surely his greatest work: “Can I have fifty pounds to mend the shed?”
I’ve been camel spotting for just the seven years. Before that of course I was a Yeti Spotter.
But it’s my only line!
It’s only a model.
Say no more!
Norwegian Blues stun easily, major.
There seems to be no end to McTeagle’s poetic invention. ‘My new cheque book hasn’t arrived’ was followed up by the brilliantly allegorical ‘What’s twenty quid to the bloody Midland Bank?’ and more recently his prizewinning poem to the Arts Council: ‘Can you lend me one thousand quid?’
You can see the join!
Hope the bladder trouble’s getting better. Love, Ewan.