The taxi driver was friendly but a little scattered brain. He took me for a long ride to another part of town before realizing that he had misunderstood the address that I gave him. I arrived at the reading 40 minutes later to find a beautiful duet of violin and guitar playing. Without entering the performance space I asked the people at the counter if there is a poetry reading. The girl said no. I was greatly disappointed but decided to go into the space anyway and listen to the music. Then a man came forward and told me that there is indeed a reading but in Polish only. I said YES! That’s what I’ve come for.
The man in the middle (of the photo) read very well and the music that accompanied him enhanced his voice and was never intrusive. I found out at the end of the reading that he was actually an actor reading the poetry of the man on the far left. He had a rehearsal with the musicians the day before.
Poetry Reading at księgarnia Cafe
You ask me how I can listen
without understanding.
I ask you what ‘sex on the beach’ has to do
with a Polish cocktail?
Meaningful words.
Meaningless their meanings.
The poet at the mike mumble-jumbles
mumble-jumbles
“Catastrophe!” cries the taxi driver,
“You want Grochowska, but we’re on Grójecka.”
Meaningless words.
Meaningful their meanings.
It won’t matter as long as I get there,
to hear a different sound in a different place,
where meaning, although meaningless
is rich in its meaninglessness.
*
Photo from Ksiegarnia Cafe
