On 1 April 2017 we featured WT and, although the poet has not published or performed any works recently, we got in touch to commission a poem.
In each ward let this silence act the boundary
In each ward let this silence act the boundary.
The borough has not his grave in Redlands
and with it, the foolish three within
three wards came and, confounded, called
forth in silence, yet depending on that
which now is carved in Elgar stone, and
to administer where they live, some
candidates claim a council of shame.
Some do it with control, a kiss with Reading’s
new wards, Abbey-loved. Houses do it with
a bitter look, a windy sigh-street and,
in silence, we let the coward do his will.
Within the borough boundaries’ winding flame,
he cast a vote from his grave of shame.
Inspired by The first local elections in Katesgrove ward in 1887 with a little help from Oscar Wilde.