refuseniks

I received a call from a literary friend

late some evening in the ‘70s –

I forget the year and the day – to tell me

Yevtushenko would be reading his poems,

the following evening, in Lecture Room 35

at Liverpool Polytechnic.

It was confidential. If they knew,

Zionists would protest

on behalf of the refuseniks.

I thought of his ‘Babi Yar’ –

‘I see myself an ancient Israelite…

And that is why I call myself a Russian!’

Either way, I took no action.