Poetry from Beijing

It is cold suddenly but on schedule, as the Chinese oracle bone readers might decree, the heat now taking nights off, the hot hours of summer seeming a reminiscence. It rained yesterday so abruptly the sun didn’t bother giving way, stopped just as quickly, the air instantly dry with ground glistening like grass in a steamy dawn. I stepped into an impression of balm and water and wished things could always be this way, moderate or mild, unthreatened by memory or change.

For those in Edinburgh, I’ll be participating in the literary festival next week (will be arriving on Monday), and would love to see you — I’m doing a book talk with Holly Pester on Saturday, August 29 at 2 p.m., and later on the same day will be chairing an event for Xiao Hai, who has received much attention and acclaim for his memoir Adrift in the South, published by Granta. Then I’ll drive into England and do readings in Sheffield, Leeds, and London.

( . ) Chateau Sungod is a charming winery and vineyard in Huailai, Hebei, which is where a group of close friends lured me on Saturday under the pretense of a “birthday trip.” Perhaps they were seeking redress for a wrong, or perhaps they were bored, having exhausted the humor in their prurient high-brow jokes that commingled coitus with classic literature.

I just arrived in Hong Kong for the weeklong literary festival, am slated to take part in the Narratives & Nightcap event on March 6. Ahead of that, looking forward to several other events (Peel Street Poetry, OutLoud HK, the debut of Hong Kong Literary Review, etc.). Give me a shout if you’re around.

This poem is the final track of All of Those Times, a Poetry x Music album released on Valentine’s Day last Saturday, nowavailable on all streaming platforms (and Bandcamp, if you’re feeling generous and want to support us). There’s a Chinese version of the album as well, on YouTube and Bilibili. The album tells the story of a relationship cycle and of fully lived lives, asking questions about who we are and the choices we make and the environments we interact with.

Friends in Oz: If you’re around, please consider attending one of these upcoming poetry readings…the venues both ask for advance registration: Better Read Than Dead bookstore, 265 King St, Newtown NSW 2042 https://www.betterreadevents.com/events/we-met-in-beijing-anthony-tao-in-conversation-with-linda-jaivin I’ll be in conversation with local author Linda Jaivin for this one; we met in Shanghai several years back, when she was judging an erotic fiction competition. I did not win.

Apologies for the lack of poems recently. Our bar, featured in this poem (from last Christmas) and this podcast from a couple months ago, changed locations at the start of this month, and the weeks before and after the move have been hectic, to say the least. If you’re in Beijing, swing by the new place—we’re just south of Beixinqiao, sharing the location with a coffee shop called Self.

I’m moving house this week, again, and realizing how much stuff I’ve accumulated through the years. I suppose it makes sense: I’ve always been a hoarder of memories, and each thing here (that shouldn’t be) is tied to a memory I have a hard time discarding. I’ve known people who are the exact opposite, as unattached to stuff as they are to experiences (let the past lie), as eager to tidy and downsize as they are to forget and unburden.

I read poetry at the Hangzhou bookstore In a Cultural House(纯真年代 chúnzhēn niándài) last week. This is the story of its founders. Her belly was distended, intestines near rupture. She had a coin flip’s chance, the doc said. After the surgery there would be chemo, purification by poison, cold sweats and sleepless nights.

I’ll have a new poem ready soon, along with, somewhat excitingly, a music video…but real quick, I want to mention that I’ll be doing four readings in four cities this week, starting tomorrow.