…and this, ladies and gentlemen, is the wooden chair
He passed his last few moments in. Yes, madam?
How old was he? Oh, no more than twenty, I expect,
The poor thing. This is his tie from the school he went to
Over here – no, sir, he was never voted prefect, but
We don’t think he seemed to mind. And this was his bedroom,
As he left it, with all his battered poetry collections, signed:
Heaney, Armitage, and this supposedly
Best friend of his – Iranian chap – who’s just won the Nobel
Prize, I believe. I like to think his mind is still scribbling away
Here when it’s twilight, editing the next piece of a masterpiece –
Yes, at the back? Which is his most famous poem? Well, sir, that very much depends
On whom you talk to…
Anyway, if you’ll please follow me, ladies and gentlemen,
The gift shop’s just through here.
