At the Q&A session after a poetry reading a few weeks ago, somebody wanted to know what kind of tree I’d be (“If you were a tree…”). I played for time, trying to think of a poetic answer, and that’s what I’ll do again for a moment – please bear with me.
Contrary to popular insistence, the role of poet laureate carries no obligations. The then prime minister Theresa May confirmed as much when she rang up to offer me the “job” (one of her happier tasks during her short and bumpy period in office, I assume). In 1843, Prime Minister Robert Peel, in urging William Wordsworth to take up the position, wrote: “You shall have nothing required of you.” And what’s good enough for Bill is good enough for me.
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