My name is Harry Baker. Harry Baker is my name.
If your name was Harry Baker, then our names would be the same.
(Laughter)
It's a short introductory part.
Yeah, I'm Harry.
I study math. I write poetry.
So I thought I'd start with a love poem about prime numbers.
(Laughter)
This is called "59."
I was going to call it "Prime Time Loving."
That reaction is why I didn't.
(Laughter)
So, "59."
59 wakes up on the wrong side of the bed,
Realises all of his hair is on one side of his head,
Takes – just under a minute – to work out it’s because of the way that he slept,
He finds some clothes and gets dressed.
He can’t help but look in the mirror and be subtly impressed
How he looks rough around the edges and yet casually messed,
and as he glances out the windows, he sees the sight that he gets blessed
with a 60 from across the street.
Now 60 was beautiful,
With perfectly trimmed cuticles, Dressed in something suitable,
Never rude or crude at all. Unimprovable,
Right on time as usual, More on cue than a snooker ball
But liked to play it super cool.
59 wanted to tell her that he knew her favourite flower,
He thought of her every second every minute every hour,
But he knew it wouldn’t work, he’d never get the girl,
Because although she lived across the street they came from different worlds.
While 59 admired 60’s ‘perfectly round’ figure,
60 thought 59 was… odd.
One of his favourite films was 101 Dalmatians,
She preferred the sequel.
He romanticised the idea they were star-crossed lovers,
They could go against the odds and evens because they had each other,
While she maintained the strict views imposed upon her by her mother
That separate could not be equal.
And though at the time he felt stupid and dumb
For trying to love a girl controlled by her stupid mum,
He should have been comforted by the simple sum –
Take 59 away from 60, and you’re left with the one.
Sure enough it took him 2 months of moping around,
But 61 days later, 61 was who he found,
His next-door neighbour, he went round to her house,
Because he had lost his keys again and his parents were out.
As he noticed the slightly wonky numbers on the door,
He wondered why he’d never introduced himself before,
As she politely let him in his jaw dropped in awe –
61 was like 60, with a little bit more. (Laughter)
She had prettier eyes, and an approachable smile,
And like him, rough-around-the-edges casual style,
And like him, everything was in disorganise piles,
And like him, her mum didn’t mind if friends stayed a while.
Because she was like him, and he liked her.
He reckoned she would like me if she knew he was like her,
And it was different this time. I mean, this girl was wicked,
So he plucked up the courage and asked for her digits.
She said, "I'm 61." He grinned, said, "I'm 59."
Today I’ve had a really nice time,
So tomorrow if you wanted you could come over to mine?
She said, "Sure."
She loved talking to someone who was just as quirky,
She agreed to this unofficial first date.
In the end he was only ready one minute early,
But it didn’t matter because she arrived one minute late.
And from that moment on there was non-stop chatter,