Sunday 20 January 2019

Monument (January)

[For Marilyn Black] We hover around them, extinct cities, listening for the noise of their ancient marketplaces, surveying empty aqueducts, instagramming stone ruts of world’s best practice chariots. Slowly we compile our own monument: field notes of the shapely temple, me on a blockhead we called Ozymandias, kooky locals. We fixate on them, snaky poems, so very Renaissance with titles like ‘The Monument’, contrary about January and suchlike conceits, in for the long haul print bestows. Left wondering, but what of all those who couldn’t string words together, lolling in the trattoria, in love, out of love, drinking their wine?

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