[John Whitworth]

Alas, it is a rare week in which we fail to score, but this was it. I can't, in all fairness, give you a lot of stick, since I didn't enter myself. The entry on gay and transgender livestock is, I think, very funny.

The new competition has possibilities, even if you have the misfortune not to be a Brit. Everybody knows that Brighton is a kind of mini San Francisco, known for drugs and gays and general artiness. Glasgow,,, well, you know, not good. Bournemouth, where the old go to die. I'd better not go on. I think I shall champion Whitstable. What rhymes with Whitstable?

No. 2741 Town lines
The good folk of Swindon recently wrote an opera entitled Swindon: The Opera to celebrate 60 years of life in the town. You are invited to submit an extract from the libretto of an opera that pays homage to another British town/city of your choice (16 lines maximum). Email entries to lucy@spectator.co.uk by midday on 28 March

[Ann Drysdale]

I reckon I should be able to adapt this - wotcherfink?

Newport

Give me a song to sing about the place
And I will do my best to orchestrate it.
Draw me a picture of its homely face
And I will find a way to decorate it.
No-one likes Newport, probably because
It's always been defined by what it's not,
Compared with something that it never was
And classified by what it hasn't got.
I shall adopt the city's attitude -
Two fingers to the guidebook on the shelf -
And call upon St Woolos and St Jude
To show me how to make it sing itself.
Come in with me and I will take you through it.
It's a tough job, but someone's got to do it...

[John Whitworth]

I think it will do very well, Ann. What's the tune? Not something ghastly by Lloyd Webber I trust.

Here's mine. As to the tune, I wish someone would write one. Not Lloyd Webber of course.

Cool Brighton

Oh my town's no shy town,
A permanently high town.
We're arty, a party
Of the illuminati.
There's no zone the ozone
Can fail to make a go zone
Where playtimes are gay times,
Yes, Brighton you're for me!

You're one in a million
Go down the old Pavilion
To see what you're missing,
The cuddling and the kissing
Of Cupid and Venus.
Why, even Graham Greene is
Exciting when writing
Of Brighton by the sea.

[Ann Drysdale]

Yours does a little tune all by itself. Sort of Salad-Days-y

Mine has no tune - just spoken by a solitary, masked chorus figure (hoodie) in front of the curtain during a quiet passage in the overture.

Actually it's the introduction to a book on the subject of the Unholy City that I wrote a couple of years ago. It was part of series from Seren Books called "Real Wales" which was commissioned from local poets who were allowed to "go gonzo" on the project.

As such, I don't think it's eligible for Lucy as it stands.

But if it were, here's the soloist I'd choose:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dx8CZyFM4b4

[John Whitworth]

An experience not to be missed, Ann. I see the place is REALLY called Casnewydd, better than Casstoc or Casbrid. I suppose, come Cymric independence we'll need a Caspass to go there. I went to a wedding in Casnewydd once. Feddw fel skunc.

Went down to Cymru, got feddw fel skunc,
Fel out my bunc,
Feddw fel skunc,
Woke up next bore still outa my hedd,
Bluddi half dedd,
Outa my hedd,
Outa my hedd and as sal fel a parot,
Had a boiled eggys and a bit of raw carot.

[Ann Drysdale]

That's cheating - I swear you nicked it from Dafydd ap Gwilym.

[John Whitworth]

A poor thing but mine own

The Ardship of Cambry

[Ann Drysdale]

I bleeve you. Farsands woodent.