Many great writers and artists have undertaken road trips. The Beatles Magical Mystery Tour, Jack Kerouac’s On the Road and Ernie the fastest milkman in the west but this really takes the Farleys!
Average at best poet, Carol Ann Duffy, is driving her gay ish friends (not a decent writer amongst them) on an all-expenses paid trip around the best hotels of England, Wales and Scotland. Two weeks of taxpayers sponsored red wine for these gravy train season ticket holders.
That great ‘working class’ newspaper The Guardian chatted to the four of them over a bottle of champagne in the lounge of a Manchester hotel.
They are good friends, and often judge each others poems, making the other the winner.
The Guardian pays for the car, the taxpayer the lunch and wine perhaps? Either way, none of them would know a decent poem from a gay, black miner. They are all safe, boring and self-pitying. The very reason no-one really gives a damn about poetry.
Establishment figures, milking their mediocre talents for their own ends. Very sad.