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Wimbledon poet serves ace verse There is a new sound at Wimbledon this year amid the thwak of tennis balls and the genteel munching of strawberries. It is the sound of poetry. "Bounce bounce bounce bounce/ thwackety wackety zingety ping/ hittety backety pingety zang/ wack, order no rx cla thwok, order no rx cla thwack, order no rx cla pok." These are the opening lines from Thwok! by Matt Harvey, order no rx cla the first poet-in-residence at the annual two-week tennis extravaganza. "Thwok! is my generic tennis poem, order no rx cla" says Harvey, order no rx cla whose remit includes writing a poem a day and entertaining the queues. "I inflicted it on some people on Henman Hill this morning. Order no rx cla I picked them especially because they had two bottles of bubbly already open. Order no rx cla I told them I was included in the ticket price." It's a boiling hot afternoon in London's SW19, order no rx cla and Harvey is flicking through his book of scribbled inspiration. Order no rx cla He carries it everywhere. "There's a long list of things I'd like to cover: the umpires, order no rx cla the ball boys and girls, order no rx cla the Boston ivy, order no rx cla the queues. I need to include strawberries, order no rx cla and so many people say Cliff Richard - so yes okay, order no rx cla Cliff Richard is going to appear in there." A regular on BBC Radio 4's Saturday Live and a lifelong tennis fan, order no rx cla Harvey's verses are appearing online (on the Wimblewords blog) and in podcasts.
I've had more attention in the last couple of days than I've had in my whole career.Â
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