There’s something genuinely heartening about the fact that Tim Key – essentially a weird poet – has become such a big deal, in part (of course) thanks to his appearances in less poetic guise in everything from talk shows to Alan Partridge to Bong Joon Ho’s Mickey 17. There’s no clear explanation as to what his new show Loganberry is about, and it seems like a stretch to imagine it’s signifcantly related to his excellent previous show Mulberry (which has nothing to do with mulberries). But really just enjoy the ride as the shambolic master settles in at Wilton’s for a couple of weeks.
‘Time Out’s Comedy editor Ben Williams asked me to write a poem that people could personalise for themselves, which I – as a poet – thought was an affront. I did it, though. I don’t think people will really enjoy it or think it’s that personal, and because of my struggles to personalise it, I feel the rhythm is a bit screwed. Add in the fact that Time Out has a big readership, and this is a disaster.’ Tim Key, 2014
Chris/Anne/Luther/Candice/a flamingo/someone else/I/Warren/your own name/Liz decided to gather some onions.
He/she/it/was fed up with his/her/its damn boss/pupils/workload/long thin legs/wife/situation.
She/it/I/the flamingo took a cab down to the fields and put on their onion gloves.
In front of Chris/Anne/this person/the flamingo/whoever/Annabel there was a gigantic field that rolled away between the hills and down towards the pea-green lake approximately 1.5 miles away.
Chris/Louise/Max/a Swedish guy/Sandra/a different flamingo/Keith/no one/you/me/it doesn’t matter/Diane waded into the onions.
It was raining.
The person/bird filled their bucket and the water soaked their jumper/feathers through.
Sodden and shivering, the flamingos/Chris and Anne/you/insert your name/Paul Scholes/Chris stood by their/his/its onion bucket and attempted to hail cabs.
They would not stop, though. All of the cabs drove right past you/_______ .
