KM to Ken Russell & Glenda Jackson

 

Dear Mr Ken Russell, I see like me you have died

Please regard this as a posthumous acknowledgement of your gorgeous film

 

Miss Jackson as ‘Gudrun’ plays my good self

And Mr Oliver Reed (‘Gerald’) is Dear John Middleton Murry

 

I truly don’t know why D.H. didn’t just go the whole hog

And call us out – use our real names – but writers are anxious creatures

 

Loath to do this, when a tale is nearly always ‘based on’ ‘so-and-so’

Not wishing to offend their muses, or nervous editors

 

And though I could never agree that celluloid can catch the breadth, vision and nuance of a fine novel

Your offering is commendable and extraordinary

 

And now to you, Dear Miss Jackson

Mr Russell chose you so well

 

Even in 1969 – dare I say it? You were no glamour puss

But you embodied the creative spirit of the day

 

And you are funny, which I am, or at least was

(Though this is seldom acknowledged)

 

And you took away the Academy Award

Though I recall – you had the good sense not to attend

 

Why, with such a savage talent you had to go into

The prosaic world of politics, God only knows

 

 

 

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