In Competition No. 2855 you were invited to compose an elegy for an endangered profession. Estate agents, travel agents, publishers, record company executives; all have seen their livelihoods put in jeopardy by a brave new digital world. You also lamented the dwindling role of the milkman and the postman, and mourned the disappearance of the old-style pub landlord.
I admired Paul Evans’s entry but wasn’t convinced that being an England football fan qualifies as a profession. There were sparkling performances, too, from Barbara Smoker and Bill Greenwell. The winners, printed below, pocket £30 each. G.M. Davis takes £35.
Apologies to Sarah Drury, whose winning entry last week was printed without her cookery book title (The Doubtful Guest).
What made the tested proofer,
The literal-detector,
Less common than a loofah?
Who rubbed out the corector?Who were the mad deleters?
Who wealded the erasers?
Who fried the subbing praetors
And gave their jobs to lasers?I think were I a riter
Id be a little bitter
To have a laser blight a
Peace of mine like litter.
Comments
Join the debate for just $5 for 3 months
Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for $5.
UNLOCK ACCESS Just $5 for 3 monthsAlready a subscriber? Log in