Poetry: Reading

Oh, and I’ve been picking through the third volume of Peter Reading’s Collected Poems (1997-2003). It’s fantastic in all sorts of ways, and it vexes me considerably that I only found out about him after he died.

Only wanted to say for the moment, this poem really nails it:

At the Reading

The sham-coy simper,

the complacency

the frisson titters,

the sycophancy.

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