HOW many words do you think you could write about a potato? If you are John Hegley a whole poem.

He is one of this country's most innovative, well-known comic poets. He has seven best-selling volumes of poetry to his name and is a regular sell-out at the Edinburgh Festival.

Now he is on his new tour, stopping at the Town Hall in High Wycombe, and says he is hoping to do a bit of sightseeing.

The 48-year-old explains: "I was last in High Wycombe about three years ago, and this will be my third visit. The first time I came I wrote a poem for the theatre.

"Maybe on this visit I might come down a bit early to get a feel for the place. I've heard it is quite famous for furniture."

The show, John's Journals which is on March 6, is an evening of John's brand of wit and clever comedy from many of his most memorable anecdotes, as recorded in his leather-bound journals.

Stories in the show range from a 10-year-old's perspective before and after wearing glasses to a chance meeting with an official of the Building Workers' Union who suggested John wrote a poem about the increased incidence of injuries in the trade.

John was born in 1953 in Newington Green, and then moved to Luton at an early age.

After leaving school he worked as a bus conductor and social security clerk, until he went to Bradford University, eking out his grant by working as a nurse in a local mental hospital.

Experiences like those have contributed to John's poetry.

"I have used them more indirectly really," explains John. " It's just about the sort of things you learn from people, just by working with them gives you ideas."

But how did it all start, and where does John's inspiration come from?

"I suppose I just loved rhyme," explains John. "That was definitely the first thing that got me in, and it's stupid isn't it saying: 'If you like jelly I'll punch you in the belly'?

And as far as his inspiration goes? "Just ordinary things, like board games and potatoes," says John. "The thing is you take these ordinary things and you try and make them bigger. Like taking a piece of fruit out of the fruit bowl, running it around the world and back again, and when it is placed back, you notice it much more."

John's last tour in 2001, Dog, based itself entirely around the canine species.

"It's just one of those animals. Everyone has a dog experience, so it's a common factor and they are natural comedians, and they don't mind it," says John, who lives with his partner Jackie and six-year-old daughter Isabella in London.

He has even gigged with Kylie Minogue.

"She was on stage earlier on in the evening at the Albert Hall in 1995," explains John. "She spoke I Should Be So Lucky like a poem."

He says comedy is one of the best things in life.

"I think comedy is very important, especially in world affairs," comments John. "If you can add a joke, people will thank you for it. There is not a lot else to give."

John Hegley is at the Town Hall on March 6, call 01494 512000

Smothering Sunday

To a wonderful mother

with wrinkly skin,

this card was concocted

by one of your kin.

I hope that you like it

it's specially for you,

I've sprinkled some glitter

on top of some glue.

I don't like the bought ones

I thought you should know,

they're too superficial

and two quid a throw

some of them.

Poem de terre

I'm not a normal person

whatever that may be

there is something very very vegetable

about me,

this human skin I'm skulking in

it's only there for show,

I'm a potato.

When I told my father

it was something of a blow,

he was hurt

and he called me a dirty so-and-so.

He kicked up a racket

and he grabbed me by the jacket;

I said, 'Daddy will you pack it in

I need you for my father not my foe

Daddy, will you try and help me grow,

won't you love me for my blemishes

and look me in the eye

before one of us is underground

and the other says goodbye?'

And he said 'No'.

When I was a schoolboy

I never knew why

I was so crap at cross-country running

but now I know

why I was so slow.

I'm a potato.

The Price of Art in Luton

On the bridge approaching the railway,

the man was begging.

I said draw me a dog

and I'll give you a quid.

So I gave him some paper

and he did.

And I said, there you go, mate,

you can make money out of art!

Will you sign it?

As I handed him the one pound thirty-odd

I had in my pocket,

he informed me that the signed ones were a fiver.