I lost my public-poetry-performance-virginity last night at “Poetica” here in Bangor with a poem I wrote at the time. Audience were encouraged to write something about their summer, loosely titled “back to school” – it is a university city.
Really it is for speaking but here it is, words as performed:
Uganda in summer
(Isn’t it always?)
A place which is Other
to our crazy ways.
(though some of them like to copy).
A capital of riches,
of vices and glitches;
no stockmarket crashed
… but Gays are bashed.
50 tribes of wonderful people,
Old friends, new friends, more friends;
son lost and found – ran him aground;
family in need – poverty indeed.
Hot dusty roads, women with loads;
volcanic plugs, plenty of bugs.
Child soldier returned – forgiveness earned?
Your ears I do bend, but must come to an end:
I can’t write poetry without cut-and-paste on my computer.
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