Joy L Poem

A poem I would like to share with you.


I had an ‘Uncle Morrie’
who thought that he could sing –
he exercised his tonsils –
to the public thought he’d bring….
his dulcet tones,
his baritone:
his songs of exultation.
On to the stage of The Rivoli he strode
to sing unto the nation.
“Come into the garden Maud,” he bade –
his voice not strong or true –
in truth so bad, the audience had a lively thought or two…
On Mile End’s ‘waste’ there lay around
cabbage leaves, tomatoes: all squishy on the ground.
Theatre-goers, disgruntled, (ignorant Uncle he…)
gathered them to throw – full face – a dish of uncooked ratatouille!

(Historical note: In the 1920s and 30s in London, England, many cinemas and theatres
held ‘Talent Nights.’ An area in the East End of London called ‘The Mile End Waste’
held markets and the waste produce lay on the ground for theatre goers to pick up.
Tomatoes in particular were popular as they were messy, squishy and colourful to throw at displeasing
acts. It is said that the pastime was very popular…)