Last night I dreamed that I flew to Egypt. When I arrived at the airport I
was met by Anwar Sadat, apparently now an ordinary citizen, since he had no
entourage. At customs and immigration, an official asked all the poets to
line up separately. So a group of a half dozen or so people got out of the
line and gathered at another place in the airport. I arrived last among them
and boldly and sneakily placed myself at the head of their line, but for some
reason I was interviewed last anyway. An official asked each of us whether
our poems were available on the internet, then led each poet in turn to a
computer to check out that person's poems. I waited anxiously for my turn,
wondering whether the traditional Arab respect for poetry would outweigh in my
favor the potentially controversial political and erotic content of certain of
my pieces. Before my turn came I woke up.
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Jon Corelis [log in to unmask]
www.geocities.com/joncpoetics
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