e diel, 8 korrik 2007

MEMOIRS OF A TATTOOED BUREAUCRAT

in single file
everyone lined up back to the big brick wall of the camp
a church like place
hunting for poets; suddenly from back in the
crowd "I see one, there she is,"
and the crowd ventured to what might be called
a
hole
maggie could be seen flitting about trying not to
eat

realizing they were being watched
dove for cover
with Angela wrapping herself
in tree branches, becoming part of the tree
Kerry enclosing himself on the ground while Steve and Nadia
with many eurekas explained about the rare species,
and the good news for the future --
they are flourishing here.

Then the crowd found a hole in the ground
from which one could hear recordist william davison
doing his literary work in the underground.

The crowd hesitantly put their ears to the ground.
One could hear him industriously at work
on some lengthy narrative amid other sounds,
and just then a regular person in the park came over
to see what everyone had found. The search
began for William himself, and we saw a figure
sitting with newspaper obscuring visage.

Steve withdrew a donut and said if it was he,
he'd be able to smell this donut from a kilometre away --
so with any luck, he waved it in the air and very
suddenly davison's head popped up from behind
the paper, said, "is that a donut?"

Soon he was walking with us and we ventured up to Bloor St
pausing in the southeast corner parkette where steve's
talk was partly obscured by the background
scene of police not so much arresting a man
as confronting and arguing with him - the man by and by
was let be then followed the police and appeared to be
harassing them in the middle of Spadina;
so when our large odd group all set across the street
at once into their midst they became curious
and I think it was Nadia explained that we were
hunting
poets.

The police said "try the library?" but first we went to the trinity
building where the small press fair is held
and they discussed the fact that, like Cormorants,
poets pool there twice each year and spend the day
exchanging poems and chapbooks and talking
but all described in zoological terms.

Steve noticed they were becoming part of the ground
good news for the future; it will not flourishing here
Then the crowd called the hole
LIBRARY.

THE END

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