Tas­mania was fab­ulous. More on that shortly. In the mean­time, here’s a poem I fiddled with while I was there after I found two unfin­ished poems from 1998’s trip to Hol­land in an old note­book. The Café Tabac of the title is in Den Haag and is this fab­ulous café actu­ally called Par­terre, filled with obscure lamps, old type­writers, golf bags and more nik naks than you can ima­gine. The poem is Walt Whit­man-over-the-top and I like it that way.

04/03/05: Café Tabac (re-edit from 04/11/98)

I half-expect Gitane-smoking men
To flow through the door,
Exclaim­ing: “The world is here
And demands exultation!
O cel­eb­rate, you daugh­ters of justice!
O weep, you chil­dren of suspicion!
The ivy has freed the streetlamps.
Statues guard ancient typewriters:
Rejoice in their observances.
Stand back, you fath­ers of tyranny.
Here are books in all languages,
Lip to lip, sigh­ing together.
O breathe, you framed portraits —
Yours is the burden of history
And the trav­ails of reflection.”