In 1968 a radio appearance led Quentin Crisp to write his autobiography. It was anything but an instant success, selling only 3500 copies. But, eight years later, the Granada Television adaptation of this book thrust Quentin Crisp into the limelight. His book, his TV programs, his interviews on chat shows and the 2009 production of An Englishman In New York all had some good one liners: "All you have to do if you are on a chat show is to look pleased to be there," he said. "It's like going to a party. All you have to do is look like you are enjoying yourself and expecting to continue to enjoy yourself." In this prose-poem I will not give you a potted history/biography of Crisp. You can read that in a number of sources. But I will say:

I enjoyed that made-for-television film
entitled-An Englishman in New York,
Quentin. It’s only been out for a year as
I write this prose-poem. I must say that I
hardly knew you Quentin, busy as I was
with 35 years of work as a teacher-tutor,
raising three kids....dealing with bipolar
disorder and being an active member of
the Bahá'í Faith for more than fifty years.

You were always very much an outsider
with decades in bed-sitting rooms letting
the dust and dirt rise to fixed positions—
and with skin white and a greenish tinge.

You beat me to your autobiography by 35
years, but you wrote yours about the same
time as I wrote mine—the age of 60: good
time, eh Quentin?....You died just as I was
settling into my sea-change, my retirement
in beautiful Tasmania. I regard it my duty,
too, to converse with anyone who calls me,
but they only call me on the internet and it
is much easier to deal with people whom...
you will never ever see......I was impressed
with your capacity to see with your own eyes
and not the eyes of others and know of your
own knowledge & not the knowledge of your
neighbour: that was, indeed, a gift to you & us.

Ron Price
29/3/’10

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married for 42 years, a teacher for 35 and a Baha'i for 50