News at Eleven: Eeny, meeny, miny mo;

put the baby on the po . . . I apologise for this lurch into poetry, but I have been sorely provoked by the new Poet Laureate, Carol Ann Duffy, whose first effort since her appointment is called Politics and starts like this: "How it makes of your face a stone that aches to weep, of your heart a fist, clenched or thumping, sweating blood, of your tongue an iron latch with no door."

from The Northern Echo: Supposedly a poet, so show it

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