Apparent Failure: A Triptych 1 ‘The Best Hamlet of his Generation’: Hard times, neglect, or the corrosive dollar Have reduced X to the hack boffin In a ‘B’ horror flick, emotion’s gamut Dwindled to a single look, his script The odd cliché between special effects For which only howls and screams are needed: ‘Manqué, manqué, manqué,’ leers the subtext, ‘Below criticism, just short of porn.’ 2 ‘The Rimbaud of his Year’: Spurred on By praise he never dreamed might be insincere – Also in the pipeline a bildungsroman Publishers are yet to queue up to print – Here in the lengthening interim Y peddles TEFL to reluctant ears: Muse in mothballs, his voice turned droning curse, He sweeps errors from language’s bottom floor For more than he’d ever get perfecting verse. 3 Legs gone, heart going, Z meanwhile ponders Missing medals, ungraced podiums... Pole packed away, an overgrown wand, That world-beating vault is forty years In the run-up as, with a gasp, he clears The bar of his own body; still inside his chair, Feels himself soar on into the blackness Where no newspaper has been before – Last is first, less seems more, failure success. Martin Bennett | Mudlark No. 12 Contents | After Cézanne