Comedy: He really is (sigh) a very punny bloke

So, John Hegley: Pam Ayres or Edward Lear? Or is he, like, a mix of John Betjeman and Jarvis Cocker, the geeky soul of suburbia? Or, like Simon Armitage, another pin-up popster, a "people's poet", penning the equivalent of muzak? Most important of all, with William Hill quoting odds of 14-1 on Furniture Face becoming the next poet laureate, is Hegley the heir apparent to Ted Hughes? Is the one time Bristol bus conductor about to become the bard of Buckingham Palace?

Timing his run to perfection, Hegley has just hit the campaign trail for six months. He's now 45, and the "books sold" column of his cv runs well into six figures. His themes - potatoes, Luton, dogs, those who wear glasses - make his voice, if nothing else, completely unique. He is also (in a description to make most right-minded people squirm) a "performance poet", and is genuinely better on stage than page. His act - a glorified book-reading - involves a lot of clowning, helped by the fact that Hegley, like John Cleese, is at the fringes of physical normality: he still looks a little like Greg Proops, and the only bumps in the beanpole are his nose and Adam's apple.

As he started his run at the Almeida last week, the doggerel was, as ever, very random. Arbitrary words were thrown together because they happened to rhyme (Hegley can't resist it). It's verbal slapstick, and can be clever: he talks of "Herman Hessian" and his "Sack Russell" terrier; describes London as a city only "Bupa can recuper ... ate"; and he recites a love poem to Judith: "Be my kin/ Give me a kith." But done repeatedly, it begins to seem breezy and trite; there were many more puns in "Poem de Terre" from his new collection, Beyond our Kennel.

There were moments of "impro", Hegley composing couplets on subjects prompted by the audience (enough said); and there was a slide show, complete with squiggles ("felt tip was my medium") and captions. But the songs - with guitar or ukulele - were slick, particularly one about "counterfeit blokes" wanting to forge their own way (geddit?).

The thing about seeing Hegley live is that he has such an affectionate following (too large to be called cult) that the audience's laughter is almost continuous. There were sniggers as soon as a title was read out. Hegley can perform and charge what he likes (pounds 10 or pounds 12 for a seat, pounds 9 for the new, slim volume). At one point he even conducted a "speccy salute", rapping the lenses of his glasses with his nails half a dozen times, and encouraging the auditorium to reply in kind.

I just didn't get it. Maybe because I've got 20:20 vision, or else because my idea of comedy isn't a cuddly Puff Daddy addicted to puns.

Almeida, N1 (0171 359 4404), tonight; South Shields Customs House (0191 454 1234), Wed; Beverley Playhouse (01482 868033), Thurs; Lancaster Nuffield Studio (01594 594157), Fri; Blandford Forum (01258 456533), Sat.