On watching a poet read her poems on video


 

On watching a poet read her poems on video

I read her poems
and liked them
but listening to her read one of her unscripted poems
quietly, softly, slowly,
with the incessant sea in the background
was like trying to overhear on the bus
the conversation
between the woman from Hongkong
3  seats in front
and her friend across the way
as well as not to hear  the chirpchirping
leaking from  the blokebehindme’s earphones.

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