The Book Southern Africa is an umbrella organisation of South African poets, writers and publishers. It owns the site http://book.co.za/

Each one of us has a blog within this site. My site which is http://poetsprintery.book.co.za carries my poetry, art, latest book arrivals and news about Hudson View, our international print poetry journal. ‘A Hudson View’ is published in the United States by Victoria Valentine (www.waterforesetpress.com/www.skylinepublications.com) and is printed in New York and East London, South Africa simultaneously.

Each year, Kate White a writer from Johannesburg and Ben Williams, the Editor hosts the annual gala dinner and get together at Cape Town. This year like the previous year the programme was held at the exclusive Kelvin Grove Country Club at Newlands next to the international cricket grounds.

I remember last year, Lionel Ritchie was crooning at the Newlands cricket grounds and we had great difficulty inching forward by our car among the walking masses.

Ben even had the audacity to ask a pretty young girl, ‘who exactly is Lionel Ritchie?’

This year I had asked his permission to distribute complimentary copies of the Hudson to each and every guest along with Shaleen Singh’s book ‘Proprietary Pains’ and ‘Tonight, An Anthology of World Love Poetry’.

The Kelvin Grove Country Club spread in lush acres was once the home of elite white gentry but thankfully that has changed.

I couldn’t have come a metre near that club during the apartheid days.

The night went with everybody talking sense and nonsense in the strictest terms and I on my part was busy ogling at the beautiful ladies and would find the faintest excuse to stand next to them. I just wished I could be even closer.

Well, male writer/poets and their warped minds and equally warped souls, it was my perineum which was doing the talking soon.

Helen Moffet is a poet and a fantastic person.

She was wearing a gorgeous dress. Her own cats screamed and refused to recognise her after she had put on that dress. Cats can be really touchy and transcreative at times.

Talking of ban’quet, I suddenly remembered Dubius Status and Nefarus Purpus, two Roman Generals in Asterix comics who always wanted to go to Cesear’s ban’quets at Rome and then thrown into the cheese later. They ended up with the lions for not conquering Gaul.

The most gratifying moment was my announcement of Mxolisi Nyezwa being the National Thomas Pringle Award Winner for Poetry of 2009 at this club which was once the bastion of apartheid era.

There was standing applause; some wondered loudly that he must be good as everybody is clapping so hard. So they too joined hesitantly.

I talked about Hudson View being the leader of the global movement of the unknown poet much to the irritation of a few poets. Some even refused to accept the journal when I offered it to them.

Well, I believe that is poetry.

Vaguely I wondered what it would be like to examine them without KY Jelly.

It was nearly 1 am when I tottered back to Ashby Manor, a colonial guest house where I was staying while Ben and all his friends continued with an after party- party.