January 5, 2017

As any person with an accent would tell you, the much-repeated question about one's provenance can be utterly irritating and boringly predictable. When I was asked by a fellow peruser of a street poetry impromptu stall on K Rd - and after just a very short exchange - where I come from, I had to stop myself from visibly and audibly sighing. "Here we go again", I thought, "can't one read street poetry without accounting for one's passport country of issue?" At l...

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