DISCONNECTION Poem by Paul Bogaert

First some fresh air.

All those names. Do not forget
to put the scissors in the vote of thanks.

All those names make me
tipsy, I'm alive and well-off: here sunlight
slips through the Venetian blinds over the chicken curry salad!
Those present swap quotes and couture colours. I revolve in
in the hullabaloo, roll myself in the felicitations
and am royally glazed in the quatre-mains of the day.

Surrounded by all-rounders and hand-clapping specialists
I am no longer alone.
Considerations are for later. Contaminations as well.
In the assuagement of the real needs I learn to be flexible.

I shall certainly get to know somebody.
In association after association.
I am voracious and free
and I can cry.