Catchphrase

In Competition No. 2466 you were invited to supply a poem or piece of prose ending with the phrase ‘It seemed like a good idea at the time.’ These words, according to Eric Partridge’s definition, are ‘applied in retrospect, jocularly or ruefully, to anything done impulsively with disastrous consequences, whether or not those were foreseeable at the moment of action’, like, I suppose, the self-castration of the priests of Cybele or the invasion of Iraq. I move aside to make room for six prizewinners, who get £25 each. The bonus fiver goes to Piers Geddes, who, if memory serves, is a newcomer. But if memory serves, it is often a fault.

When Clovis the Frank wanted peace with his neighbours,
A break from rebellions and rest from his labours,
He sent invitations to tea on the lawn
And afternoon sports, mixing judgment with brawn.
To Ostrogoth, Visigoth, Vandal and Hun
Refreshments were offered and the games were begun;
The chatter was cordial, banter quite jokey,
Till someone suggested a quick game of croquet.
Smiles all round; then a chorus of ‘Cheat!’
Showed a certain reluctance to meet with defeat.
In seconds, two Vandals were dinner for gulls,
There were mallets embedded in Ostrogoth skulls,
Croquet balls slung from some improvised loops
And Huns in the bushes, impaled on hoops.
‘That’s a shame,’ murmured Clovis, sipping orange and lime.
‘It seemed like a good idea at the time.’
Piers Geddes

‘Course, at the time there wasn’t any, just an infinite amount of, well, infinity, but I gave myself a week and got creating. After I’d done the heavens and got the earth sorted, I called in the lads to help — not Lucifer, of course, who’d gone off in a huff, never found out where. We had some laughs with the animals. When Gabriel did the walrus I thought I’d rend the firmament! It was Uriel — he was a right piss-artist — got me to do a teeny-weeny version of myself, only less ineffable, and then I did another one with not so many bits and not as hairy.