Some Questions on the Cultural Revolution
Alistair Noon
An extraordinary collection, which records the moment when the Chinese People’s Congress recognized private property, and carries the reader forward into a very particular, fascinating world opening with the journey told in Memoirs of a Leningrad Sinologist -
I left the warmth
behind my leather door
at the summit of the stairwell
and walked the granite banks
of the breaking Neva
towards the shelves of the Institute,
the desks and hot piping.
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A collection of sonnets, moving A to Z through the alphabet over 32 pages; lyrical from beginning to end. For instance –
Rupert Brooke’s journey with the Eskimo
out for a pound your appetite dances
I give in to the sun’s insistence
on moving up why is it
that repetition is both enticing
and greedy here the clock stops for tea
coagulated with honey and whale-milk
staining the preservation of an idea
that snow ought to be entirely edible
spread like the roof of a house for comfort
this is what my magazine thinks (Igloo:
the organ for those whose life has become
expensive) my heart bleeds colours of summer
mapped for the exhausted explorer
open on your table a hundred skins
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Thirty poems from the maestro; here’s one of them – Petrarch 158
whenever I turn my eyes from the pirates of Kowloon
a sunburned Venus appears
rented from my thoughts
two beats a skip her voice pumps my heart,
her tongue in my ear
and her hand in my trousers
I am wearing my best shirt and
there’s a wet patch on the poop-deck
never before has she revealed two beauties
O holy-moly
making me talk big beneath starry seas
making me walk the plank of internal time consciousness
my teeth and hair well-brushed
my manicure profound
O the looks that swam from her treasured eyes
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