Refused admission. Speel’s. On Friday night.
Apparently my clothes. Not smart enough.
Full they said. Departed in a huff.
Ate at Goldberg’s. Went back Monday night.
Same fat bouncer. Wore my Paul Smith suit.
Nothing said. Nice table by the bar.
Cocktails. Hognuts. Champagne. Caviar.
Alligator steaks. Took off my suit.
Arranged it on the chair like that and that.
Spooned the food inside it. Then the drink.
Waiters looked the other way. I think
I proved my point. Paid up and took my hat.
Tipped the bounced. Bowed at Bwana Speel.
‘I think,’ I said, ‘the suit deserved the meal.’

*****

John Gallas writes: “It’s one of my favourite ‘Persian Proverb’ stories (the original is a merry little read, involving a guest at a Vizier’s house) and making the sonnet was therefore – the whole content being pre-provided – an exercise in style, form, rhyme etc., a challenge I very much like – which is why I do so much translating. I also happen to think that the ‘message’ (though I’m not that fond of poems with ‘messages’) applies increasingly to a world of judgement by appearances, influencers, and pre-packaged (but, alas, empty-packaged) ideas of social success. I don’t often get this ‘relevant’, but the applicability just came with the story, and that kind of proves it’s timeless/universal, and not my personal grouch.

‘Blantyre’: has an interesting history – I was asked to ‘Rep of Ireland-ify’ it for a Food Festival in Cork, were it went down (haha) well – so I entered it for the ‘Taste’ poetry competition last year … and it won! So I have 2 versions – I think the ‘Irish’ one is a bit more zippy, but whichever you prefer is ok with me – I’ve attached the ‘Abhar Blas’ (‘A Matter of Taste’) version.”

ábhar blas
(a matter of taste sonnet)

refused admission – Friday night – at ‘Gator –
apparently my blús – not smart enough –
FULL they said – departed in a huff –
ate at Porkys –
went back one week later –
same trom Bouncer – wore my Trixie Blout –
nothing said – nice table by the bar –
tapas – Boxty Raws – Moss-Roasted Gar,
Thomas Walk Champagne –
undressed – laid out
my suit – like someone in my seat – and piled
the food into its lap – poured in the drink –
Waiters looked the other way – I think
I proved my point – paid the damage – smiled –
tipped the Bouncer – thanked Cócaire O’Neill –
I guess – I said – the suit deserved the meal.

*****

John Gallas, Aotearoa/NZ poet, published mostly by Carcanet. Saxonship Poet (see www.saxonship.org), Fellow of the English Association, St Magnus Festival Orkney Poet, librettist, translator and biker. 2025 Midlands Writing Prize winner. Presently living in Markfield, Leicestershire. Website is www.johngallaspoetry.co.uk which has a featured Poem of the Month, complete book list, links and news.  

Illustration: ‘Blantyre Sonnet’ by RHL with ChatGPT-6 Astra Light. Not perfect, but I wasn’t going to waste time arguing about to collapse the clothes…