Unable to change

Years and years ago, I heard this joke. The man who stands his ground permanently, never gets to take his trousers off!

Geddit?

Which brings me to more recent times, a fortnight ago to be exact. I was in Hong Kong and not knowing what to bring my friends living there, I hit on the al-cheapo idea of passing them copies of a book of poems I self-published ages ago and which entirety can be found here.

A present! And help me to reduce unsold stock taking up shelf space. 🙄

As usual, those to whom I’ve presented these remnants will thank me, put away the slim volume and never read it at all.

But not the young woman (daughter of a new friend) working in HK crunching Big Data.

A day after her mum passed her my poems and we were making our way to dinner, she said: “I like your poem No 56! About the inability to change”

Huh! No kidding! Not only did she read the poems or at least some of them. She even remembered the title and what it said.

It was the best compliment I have ever received for my “literary” efforts!

And to mark that compliment I am reproducing the poem here.

56. He is restless.
He keeps looking for change
in new faces
in new places.
But how can anything be
different
when he brings
himself
wherever he goes?

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