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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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