The tests are promising – now run the stats.

A piddling two percent for no effect,

And eighty three percent for total cure!

It’s fabulous. I kneel before the Queen,

‘Arise Sir Knight!’ I’m on Time magazine,

I’m in demand to speak, a world tour….

But first, to clean the lab and disinfect,

And now they’ve played their part, to gas the rats.

I sit and write the paper through the night,

Then check it twice, and check it twice anew,

Attach it to an email and press Send

To colleagues in Berlin and Buenos Aires.

I picture gaping mouths, astonished stares,

Their valiant attempts to comprehend

The oceanic depths I’ve travelled to

To raise this pearl of knowledge to the light.

The peer reviewers marvel to a man –

And woman. Soon a storm of clamour breaks.

Now publication, acclamation, fame,

Nobel citation and a Cambridge Chair.

I fly to Stockholm, Mother meets me there,

And helps me with my flight expenses claim.

Back home I sit and eat a bowl of flakes

By light of candles in my caravan.

(Alterative ending)

The peer reviewers bend the knee before

The world-astounding tale I have to tell.

Now publication, acclamation, fame,

Nobel citation and a Cambridge Chair.

I fly to Stockholm, Mother meets me there,

King Gustav kindly asks about our name,

How it’s unusual, but it rings a bell;

‘Manson’, as written on my room’s strong door.

Chris Short

18 May 2011