At a Poetry Reading


I heard him that afternoon for the first time
and I wondered how his wit could suborn
his thoughts amidst a freeplay of exteriors
that had no obvious roots of any kind.

I listened to his dispersed, often decentred, text
hoping I cold subpoena a sudden rupture but all
I really did was to daydream myself

into his work: I imagined myself at court
as the sententious, expert witness of sorts
and he the young prosecuting attorney
(whom everybody wants to ruin),

and then I the closed paradigm
and he the affable talkshow host
(already showing signs of polite frustration).


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These lines were conceived after a poetry reading in KL some years ago. I’m not telling who the young poet was but let’s say I partied with him many years before that in a gay club somewhere or other.