This poem is inspired by a trip to Mostar, Bosnia & Herzegovina in August, 2011. It was first performed at the Herceg Stjepan Kosaca on 14th August, 2011.
Dear Mr Postcard Seller,
I don't mean to be a pain and cause a fuss - you can tell by my accent that I am English after all - but seriously, you can't expect me to buy these postcards?
What kind of place is this, Mr Postcard Seller, where instead of pictures of cobbled streets and pretty panoramas, you're showing me a completely smashed and pulverised place?
Do you really expect me, Mr Postcard Seller, to take this scene of an airstrike, of levelled terrain; of ex-houses and former tenants, and on the reverse write "Wish you were here?"
And with your tales of what happened, Mr Postcard Seller, in limited and stilted English, Mr Postcard Seller, do you hope to persuade me?
The look of sincerity in his eyes. The longing for what once was. The sight of the memories replaying in his mind over and over again did more than any patter ever could.
Dear Mr Postcard Seller. I'll take six.