A short walk through the rarified atmosphere at the crossroads of sirat-al-mustaqeem and the path of Tao

here by the bye
stoking the fire of courtship
among the many court-appointed courtesans
are the portly courtiers
with their ornamental pokers
wielded with a lack of
an imagination stunted at birth
and later jettisoned
in favour of the kind of rhetoric
often associated with machetes at dawn
or cantonese elegies for late chairman mao
whose face in partial silhouette adorns
the four-by-four centimetre analogue
that clings to my flat-screen monitor

he tells me that it’s nine thirty-ish
am or pm
looking past my shoulder into the middle distance
perhaps fondly recalling pir papa doc of na-pak sarzameen
and the last time they met in the old town of peking
way back when in the seventies
just before the one of them kicked the bucket
and the other returned home
with one foot in the grave
and the other in a jet-black jackboot
with the words pak-cheen dosti zindabad
stitched into the supple leather in
red white and green nasta’liq

minos – january 2008

3 Comments

Filed under poetry, Politics, Theatre

3 responses to “A short walk through the rarified atmosphere at the crossroads of sirat-al-mustaqeem and the path of Tao

  1. quite lyrical and nostalgic
    what is the background. Pray, inform us

  2. well, it sort of started out in the same vein as my previous piece on three-legged racing, aka our floored [sic] election process.
    then mao refused to look me in the eye as i was checking the time (yes, there really is a 4×4 cm analogue with his face, stuck to my monitor). and then it sort of snowballed downhill from there into a perefilial companion piece following the aforementioned quasi-elegiac to sister francesca, aka late her-highness.

    (if that makes any sense.)

    i think i emailed you the third part of the family trilogy (if you’ll pardon the hyperbole).