The Pub Singer

image by dsnake1

I once wrote a poem about my R&R activities after a military exercise overseas. It was a long rambling piece, was never really completed.

Recently, I dug it out from some old notebook and had a good look at it again. It was bad, I thought. So I took parts of it, and rewrote them as standalone poems.

The following poem is the result of such work. It is almost unrecognizable from the original. I hope it's worth the effort.

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The Pub Singer
-------------------
unnamed pub, taipei, 1976

The pub was small, spartan,
the air heavy with cigarette smoke.
Everyone in the hall was just listening,
                 electrified
by that clear voice over the sound system.

The pub singer,
she was there, in the centre
of the stage,
lit up like a store display
under pools of pink
and orange lights.

She sat on a high stool
plucking away on a guitar,
plucking our heartstrings
as she sang of love and wanderings
and olive trees at home,
her oval face and
bob cut hair haloed in neon,
rounded hips tight in denim jeans.

i asked a waitress what was her name
she said girls like her are like
blooms from trees
and i thought
in my country
she would be a star.

06/03/06
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