Thus begins a short story by the man I will call Poet Y, recounting an incident from his 21 years in jail during the Cultural Revolution. When I met him he rolled up his sleeves and revealed the thick black scars above his wrists burned into his skin from his torture. Today he is free and he can't stop talking. His favorite English phrase is “Why Not?” Poet Y was jailed for his knowledge and ability as a poet, musician, and artist and because he couldn't keep his thoughts to himself. He literally was jailed for his words.

The Cultural Revolution is over; aren't things different now? Well, yes, in many ways China has changed and there is more freedom. However, in February 1998, four poets were arrested. Do you know their names? Wu Ruohai, Xiong Jinren, Ma Zhe, and Ma Quiang. They were put in jail for planning a literary journal. Public performances seem to be ok, but publishing is still risky. A few months later their friend was arrested for leaking information of the poets' arrests to the press. This is how much Beijing fears poetry, fears freedom of thought, and still controls the flow of information.

I urge you to email President Clinton right now and demand that the U.S. start throwing poets in jail! Don't stand for anything less. Sure, he has been whittling away at civil rights, including habeas corpus and free speech on the Internet. How do they expect us to compete with the Chinese poets when the worst thing that can happen to a Western poet is to get a low score in a Poetry Slam? Or have the mini-bar in our artist-in-residency digs go on the fritz?

OK, seriously: pray for them, write them a poem, send a letter, an email, light a candle, say their names: Wu, Xiong, Ma and Ma. And just remember how lucky you are the next time you go to a reading and hear some suck-bottom-poet read his oh-me-oh-my bull-hooey. In China they put the good ones away for safekeeping.

Now we are back at the Tea House edge on cup 39 of highly caffeinated tea, listening to Mandarin for hours, which must be something like how a dog feels -- you know people are good and they will feed you, but what the “woof” are they talking about?

The Tea House rappers, or as they call themselves, “Cross Talkers,” were funny and exciting even not knowing what they were saying. From what I could gather, they were insulting each other in a playful way. They wore long robes with high buttoned necks giving the appearance of the old China they were recreating. During one act performed by two boys around the age of 10, one mimed speech while the other hid behind him and sang/spoke in a wiry high voice. Then the star of the show, a young guy of about 20, brought out the clappers, similar to castanets and started clacking them and rapping. The crowd went wild, well, they stopped drinking tea for a moment and clapped along with one hand. So bursting with liquid we wandered back down to T-Square with its empty lap of concrete. The Chinese and American flags were limp, almost touching.

Sometime earlier or later, I can't remember which, President Clinton limo'd by in his motorcade waving his lonely wave.

--Gary Mex Glazner

JUST ANNOUNCED: The winner of the Nobel Prize in Literature for the year 2000 is Chinese novelist & playwright Gao Xingjian, now living outside Paris. Does anyone know what happened to the poets Gary mentioned here, Wu, Xiong, Ma and Ma, since this feature first appeared in September 1998?

Want to read more about poetry & artistic expression in China?

• Human Rights Watch's 1995 report is entitled "China: Keeping the Lid on Demands for Change."
• Their 1998 report on China also names names.

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