The reader enters the humid room:
the performance about to begin.
People, metal chairs everywhere.
He climbs across many knees
to the one seat empty: the one beside
the famous poet. It's so hot, so crowded,
says the reader, I wonder how I'll ever
get this jacket off. Ask the snake,
intones the poet. The reader
recoils.
Gerald Fleming
Contents | Mudlark No.
3
| 27 | 29 |