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Poem

Chris Abani

CHANGING TIMES

VERANDERENDE TIJDEN

Drie-minuten-spaghetti. Vis-in-de-zak.
Panklare pasta. Een beker vrijgezellen-instant-soep

verbazen me haast evenzeer als
de magnetron, m’n nieuwe laptop en de

blijvende kracht van Coltranes A Love Supreme
en Miles’ Kind of Blue.

Niet dat ik m’n maatstaven verlaagde
met een te dankbaar gehemelte

of die zeergeliefde mannelijke
fascinatie voor nieuwe speeltjes en jazz.

Maar ik leer m’n leven te proeven
zonder oordelen. Denk ik.

CHANGING TIMES

Three minute spaghetti. Boil in the bag fish.
Pot noodle. A mug of Batchelor’s instant soup,

amaze me nearly as much as
microwaves, my new laptop and the

enduring power of Coltrane’s A Love Supreme
and Miles’ Kind of Blue.

It’s not that I have lowered standards
with a too grateful palate

or that much espoused masculine
fascination for new toys and old jazz.

But I am learning to taste my life
without judgement. I think.
Chris Abani

Chris Abani

(Nigeria, 1966)

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CHANGING TIMES

Three minute spaghetti. Boil in the bag fish.
Pot noodle. A mug of Batchelor’s instant soup,

amaze me nearly as much as
microwaves, my new laptop and the

enduring power of Coltrane’s A Love Supreme
and Miles’ Kind of Blue.

It’s not that I have lowered standards
with a too grateful palate

or that much espoused masculine
fascination for new toys and old jazz.

But I am learning to taste my life
without judgement. I think.

CHANGING TIMES

Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Lira fonds
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LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère