True, the small furry rodent in the picture is a squirrel, not a guinea pig, but surely that further justifies the post title, which says I’m looking for guinea pigs.
I need them because I’ve just published an online video course – The Essential Poet’s Toolbox for Readers and Writers – on Udemy and I need some students. (If you don’t know about Udemy, it’s got lots of interesting courses in all sorts of areas from lifestyle to business to technical, some free, some not. You need to create a user account, but once you’ve signed up for a course you have access to the content for ever without paying any more.)
The Essential Poet’s Toolbox for Readers and Writers takes a non-technical look at modern poetry, grouping the tools into five main areas: metre, form, rhyme, layout, and sound. It’s gone on sale at £35 (for 2.5 hours of video lessons) but I’m giving away discount coupons.
The code EPTDCTNAGO16 – valid till the end of August 2016 – gets you 50% off.
This is the course promo video:
If you go over to the course page on Udemy, you can view a couple of the classes before signing up, so you know what sort of thing you’re getting.
They say, though, that the most successful courses are those that get sign ups and reviews early on, so I really need some help to start the ball rolling. So, if anyone reading this blog is interested and can do the course and review it in the next week, I have just a few coupon codes that will give FREE access to the course for ever.
Email me direct ( email@example.com ) and I’ll send a code to the first ten requests.
I don’t have any guinea pigs among my photos or in my poetry, but, perhaps because I lived in Spain for so long, I do have plenty of pigs. Fortunately, the guinea pigs I’m asking for aren’t likely to suffer this fate:
el museo del jamón
The Ham Museum is a shrine
to swine: crimson haunches hang
in the swelter of strip lights; fat leaks
dripping into plastic cones while
an unobtrusive bustle of barstaff
serve the gathered worshippers.
With ritual gesturing, slim-bladed
knives skim iridescent curves.
Glasses are raised in veneration
of marbled flesh, and wafers
of translucent succulence dissolve
as devotees discuss the mysteries
of the world.
Here in the UK, you’re more likely to see fresh carcasses than cured pork haunches.