International Tutors' Magazine April 2019 | Page 22

INTERNATIONAL TUTORS’ MAGAZINE
2 ND PLACE WINNER
THE GOOD POETRY FESTIVAL
BY XU XIAOTONG
It’s the Good Poetry Festival today, but the streets in our town are not decorated at all.
Actually, no one is planning to celebrate.
The mayor is in a dire situation--- the town still can’t hand in a satisfying poem to the
Emperor this year, which means a citizen’s head has to be presented as substitute. “Why
indeed is this Emperor so cruel and stupid?” he murmurs, “Anyway, I have to make a
choice.” He asks a soldier to kill a rapist --- murderers were used up last year.
Three years ago, the poem I wrote satisfied the emperor. Every single soul of the town
survived intact. Since then, I have become the most respected man in this town. The rich
give me money, the poor rush to be my servants, and the beautiful girls are sent to keep my
bed warm and sweet --- all they want in return are good poems.
I don’t really understand why the dignitaries are so nervous either. After all, there are
millions of ordinary citizens in this town; dispensable heads are literally quite thick on the
ground. Besides, what’s wrong with letting lumpen people die first? I actually kind of like
this festival and the rules made by the Emperor. People are reading more these years. Isn’t
that a good thing?
“Have you written anything today?” My wife Tata is asking me. She is the most beautiful
woman in our town, the daughter of our mayor. I know she married me for a reason ---
pushing me to write poems. I’m annoyed by her everyday.
“You don’t understand, Tata. Writing requires inspiration.”
“But, dear, you haven’t even touch your pen for months.”
“I will.” I answered impatiently, “Why don’t you go get yourself some new garb?”
“I don’t—”
“See, you have already worn this dress three times,” I interrupt her, “don’t you have any
new ones? ”
“Please...” she implores with wistfulness, “don’t make me go.”
Then she looks down shyly, “I miss you.” Her collar opens wide. I haven’t been to her room
for several nights. Surely I’m missed.
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