Tag: Marika Rose

Corpses To Remember Him By


I hope I shall not offend you; I shall
certainly say nothing with the intention
to offend you. I must explain myself,
however, and I will do it as kindly

as I can. What you ask me to do I
am asked to do as often as one half-
dozen times a week. Three hundred letters
a year! One’s impulse is to freely consent,

but one’s time and necessary occupations
will not permit it. There is no way but
to decline in all cases, making no
exceptions; and I wish to call your

attention to a thing which has probably
not occurred to you, and that is this: that
no man takes pleasure in exercising
his trade as a pastime. Writing is my

trade, and I exercise it only when
I am obliged to. You might make your request
of a doctor, or a builder, or a sculptor,
and there would be no impropriety

in it, but if you asked either for a
specimen of his trade, his handiwork,
he would be justified in rising to
a point of order. It would never be
fair to ask a doctor for one of his
corpses to remember him by.



The typewritten message Mark Twain would send to autograph seekers, via Futility Closet. Submitted by Marika Rose.

The eye of the beholder


Ugly is in the eye of the beholder.

Grey skies,
Grey streets,
Grey grass.

Chimney stacks, factories.
Everywhere a factory.
Belching smoke. Black gates. Brick walls.

A wretched dog.
And the brilliantly
red nose of
the heavy drinker.

The industrial landscape of
1930s Salford wasn’t a pretty one.

But one ‘clumsy boy’ grey up, looked beyond
the bleakness and saw something beautiful.

Grey skies became
A silver canopy
undulating over a sea of red brick.

Factories became cathedrals of industry
with soaring chimney spires.

Crowds of workers became colourful, matchstick people
And black smoke became the
breath of a city alive with hard graft and banter.



A full page advert for an ITV documentary on L S Lowry, spotted in the Observer magazine on the 25th April 2011. Submitted by Marika Rose.

Marine Drive


O we do like to be beside the seaside
Voulez vous promenader avec moi?
Kiss me quick!
Come unto these yellow sands and then take hands
O we do like to walk along the prom!



Words written along the seafront in paving stones in Bridlington, East Riding of Yorkshire, spotted on the 11th April 2011. Submitted by Marika Rose.

Long-lived and Manly


I woke up at 4am, before dawn.
You should be asleep. You’re all tired after
a sleepless night. I am like the Queen
of England. I am much bigger
than any rank, for those who are talking
about rank, I am a fighter. Your face
will melt off and your children will weep over
your exploded body. These resentments,
they are the rocket fuel that lives in the
tip of my saber. I have defeated
this earthworm with my words – imagine what
I would have done with my fire-breathing
fists. Life without dignity is worthless
Every great movement begins with one man.




Quotations from recent statements by Charlie Sheen and Muammar Gaddafi, taken from a Guardian quiz, 1 March 2011. Submitted by Marika Rose.

The spineless man


My dad had
an affair with his
21-year-old secretary.

He regretted it
almost immediately when she
started standing on bridges
and threatening suicide should he
go back to
or pay maintenance to
his wife and three
very young daughters.

Disgusted, my mother
refused to have him back. The spineless man
was then marched up the aisle,
vasectomy reversed, child produced. Anti
depressants ensued, along with
the loss of any meaningful
relationship with his
previous three daughters.

He currently works
long hours with a
serious heart condition to
support his wife and her
expensive horsey hobbies.

Meanwhile my mother
grew strong, witty and
wise. His daughters all
suffered. The lure of
a youthful admirer!
More fool him.



Taken from a Guardian article on readers’ experience of divorce on the 9th February 2011. Submitted by Marika Rose.