Personality test
with worked examples
Are you made of
dogs
fogs
or cogs?
Son: dogs.
Father: fogs.
Are you made of
cats
splats
or rats?
Son: splats.
Father: cats/rats.
Are you made of
sticks
tricks
or licks?
Father: tricks.
Son: licks.
Are you
lights
tights
or fights?
Father: lights
Son: fights
Son: you’re tights.
Father: lights.
Son: he’s tights.
Are you
bones
phones
or moans?
Father: phones
Son: moans
Are you
playing
saying
or neighing?
Son: saying.
Father: neighing
Are you made of
coasts
boasts
or ghosts?
Son: coasts
Father: ghosts
Are you made of
board games
band names
or old flames?
Father: band names / old flames
Son: board games
Are you
a note pad
an iPad
or a launch pad?
Father: a launch pad
Son: iPad
Son: he’s a note pad.
Are you
country walks
serious talks
magic bean stalks?
Son: serious talks.
Father: You are not serious talks! You are magic bean stalks.
Son: serious talks.
[ ]
Father: I’m country walks.
Do you practice
stagecraft
witchcraft
or Minecraft?
Father: witchcraft
Son: Minecraft
Are you
asks
tasks
or masks?
Son: asks.
Father: tasks/masks.
Are you
sneezes
teases
or pleases
Father: teases / pleases
Son: sneezes.
Are you afraid of
locks
rocks
or socks?
Son: locks
Father: locks
Father: you’re also afraid of socks.
Son: just locks.
New electric piano
I don’t know
why I don’t
call out
but I
open the door
quietly.
I softly
know the
rooms again.
The lives are sleeping.
(I check my phone
to check my phone:
is there any news
about the news?)
In the front room
a boy my son
naps across
the armchair.
He’s so tall
he’s had to
fold himself in.
In our bedroom
a woman you
nearly a stranger
has finally left
a bright shore.
The blinds have
been darkened
to full sail.
She, don’t say she,
faces away
and I’m greedy
to wake you, to
kiss as if my kiss
could be more
important
than rest, the
privacy of sleep.
(I check my phone
to check my phone:
is there any news
about the news?)
I leave you,
I walk
into my son’s
empty room.
It’s chocka
with ons and
offs, with
greens and whites,
the slick reds
of shaped plastic,
with mimics,
with machines.
I’m outsize on the interstellar bed.
(I check my phone
to check my phone:
any news
about the news?)
Later the
almost stranger
who is you
tells me
the peace
is all about the piano: the boy
just fell asleep, serene, listening
to his mother a young woman
relearning Bach,
and she, you, you knew then
there was time after all to escape.
Richard Price‘s latest collection is Moon for Sale (Carcanet) and a selection of his essays is collected in Is This A Poem? (Molecular). He is Head of Contemporary British Collections at the British Library. @InfoPrice on Twitter and Instagram.