poetry reading in Paris
Poetry reading in Paris
Paris, six or seven years ago
I was invited to read my poems in front of an audience
At the time I wrote many pro-Palestinians poems
and I had nothing good to say about Israel.
I read my poems for a packed audience, but when I looked up,
must of them had left.
In the room there about five none Jewish people left.
The man who had invited me was a Moroccan Jew we got on well, but he had not asked me what poems I was reading.
He had disappeared with the others, and someone came to switch off the light.
Paris didnīt impress me much. I had a mental picture of the city as it was in Hemingway days, more fool me.
All was not lost the Shakespeare book shop took in two of my
small books, who knows they might still be there.