Poetry Capital


Swindon is twinned with Ocotal but it is also tenuously half-rhymed with Chicago.

Swindon is challenging global poetry inequality.

Swindon Zoo contains the last known thesaurus in captivity.

All our pavements rhyme.

There is irony in our skyscrapers.

Swindon has more imaginary buildings than anywhere else in the world.

Work will soon commence on the Oasis Leisure Centre to create the Swindon Poetry Dome.

Poetry books are secretly making love in Waterstones and are about to multiply.

Claire Trevien writes 'Swindon' with her red pen with a heart above the I!

Swindon supermarkets stock alphabet spaghetti that pours out in sonnets.

In Swindon, people are throwing poetry to the ducks.

Real ale might have dried up at Archers but real poems haven't.

T Shirts are available in all poetic forms.

Poetry pan pipes are being played in Superdrug.

Our clouds move in iambic pentameter.

All poems fly here for the winter.

Carol Ann Duffy once read her poems here and may do so again.

The bust of Virginia Woolf in the Swindon Museum and Art Gallery reads silently out loud at poetry open mic.

The position of the hole in the ozone layer above Swindon means that poems are automatically shared with the universe.

You can recycle your boring poems in a box at Asda North Swindon.

Poetry spawn is waterfalling down the steps at Brunel Plaza.

Most poets have Swindon as a backdrop to all their dreams.

We, the undersigned, declare Swindon to be the poetry capital of the world at 15:03, 18/10/2011

Mabel Watson
Barry Dicks
Fenella Louini

We take our inspiration from the Christmas lights of the 2008 Magic Roundabout Christmas tree.

some Write Out Loud responses,
http://www.writeoutloud.net :

Great fun! I never realised Swindon had so much going for it. But no mention of the infamous roundabout? ...

Would agree with Greg here - you simply have to have the magic roundabouts in any poem about Swindon. Have driven over them many a time - you really do take your life in your hands cos no-one seems to have a clue - a bit like driving in France when you just get off the ferry...

And how about the soul-less outlet centres? All the soul poured into poetry no doubt. And everywhere you go the the sound of polish verse...

A fun idea for a poem. You could be poet laureate for the town.

Some great thoughts here - here's to world domination - by Swindon! (Don't you have railway museum? Surprised Greg didn't mention that!)