The Borkowski poet in residence comes over all Jamie Oliver after watching more Celebrity Big Brother than anyone should have to cope with.
Take a pinch or two of 70s pop singer
an ounce of bubbly blonde
two teaspoons of scrofulous rock star
a soupcon of gay man.
and mix gently in a sterile environment.
Grate in, like nutmeg,
the withered husk of reputation
left to the Miss World competition.
Whilst you are stirring,
dip the toe of one crusty film director
into the mix and then remove it.
Get a sieve – a big one –
and sift egos through it
until the fine remains float down
like fake snow
in a generic romantic scene
from some soap opera Christmas special.
For spice, what else is there to add
but a Bollywood beauty?
Watch as the other ingredients fight
to see who can insult her first
and then whisk in furiously
a few accusations of racism.
Collect the slipped masks
and chop them up with scissors
in a cup.
They’ll make fine seasoning.
Finally, add one carefully sculpted
sack of potatoes and her family
and then boil, boil, boil
until all nutrition is gone.