Resentment / In defense of reputation (poemas)


We work in the monster’s belly
and no cub reporter or even
seasoned vet can verify

the beast’s weaponry, and
if we sniff an angle that could
embarrass some big wig

the fellow strong-arms
the publisher threatening
law suits or removal

of ads. But we live here,
compromised, afraid,
while these other guys

who took money, who fled
and live now eating well
in the West, how dare

they train their pens
on us, the embattled,
still valiant local press.

Who indeed is free
in this world? Journalism
beholden to corporate

giants is such old hat
but still true like
the importance of ratings

to contracts and protecting
the president/king
in times of perpetual conflict.



I tuned into Sri Lankan radio
this morning, its English Service,

to hear the BBC from Davos
broadcast live a panel

discussion on China
or America, on the train

which has left the station,
generating a riff

of questions, who
is its driver, or does

it run on computer,
are the people

on board, or only

officials, does it use
renewable fuel or are

we returning to coal,
clean, of course,

thanks to damned
climate barkers–

hearing the program

via the internet
of the former

Radio Ceylon
comforted me

that even
in my lifetime

some practices
survive famines,

floods and civil wars,
the, at times, grudging

but still strong island
respect for the Beeb.

Indran Amirthanayagam, January 30, 2011

(Imagen tomada de Internet / Derechos reservados por el autor)