I’ll be there! At the international
poetry festival on May 26th in Maun Lodge. I’m overwhelmed by
excitement. I feel like jumping like a delighted child, animated by the mere thought
of performance. I want to dance on my ceiling, dancing to the drumbeats pumping
within my ribcage. This heart is playing me a rhythm I never heard before. Even after all these years gracing stages, the
mere thought of a podium and microphone still sends vibrations of exhilaration
through my nervous system. Last night I dreamt myself already there, prancing on stage, my bare feet squeaking under my light weight. Lights were deemed,
glowing hesitantly and I could vaguely see those thousand faces seated quietly,
waiting in great anticipation. I tapped the microphone, once, twice...and on
the third time, a drum beat started. Words tumbled off my mouth, spewed into
the microphone and spilled through speakers, ‘the axe chop came without any
warning whatsoever...’
In My Room/Office/Studio
"A writer and nothing else: a man alone in a room with the English language, trying to get human feelings right." - John K. Hutchen.
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