THE READING CONTINUED


Some said it was sabotage
Others believed more in
Technical difficulties

I heard helicopters
Hovering above
The palace of culture

But I could not
See the flying machines

At the entrance
Guards stood
Holding assault riffles
Like rock stars hold
Electric guitars

It’s good
To see poets
Well protected here
In this Mexican
Wild—West
The poet stood there
With a dead microphone
And a wet speaker

Even though
There was no juice
And the beer sat
In unopened kegs
And the bottles of wine
Were ready for neophytes

The poet
Raised his index finger
Towards heaven
A poetic act by itself
And electricity returned
The speaker and the mike
Were resurrected