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Wednesday, 5 May 2021

Methodologies

I can shoot a photograph
I can write a note
I can make a gesture
I can do all of these
Simply to build a memory

I could talk of warm sun
I could talk of a cold breeze
I could talk of thunderstorms
I could talk of snow on mountains
All of these to add to the memory

Yes, to be in awe
Of the black and white marble
Of the religious fresco
Of the walkway in the sky
Of the seat, on the outdoor shelf

How long is the queue
Already three parties
Have pardoned themselves
Yet the three of you
Return without venturing

Instead to find a bar
To carry out
A triangulation exercise
To find the height
Of the minaret


Tuesday, 4 May 2021

People Past Purpose

How silent the camera
How silver
The quiffed and curly hair

How careful the restoration
How tidy
Row after row of the fold-away chair

Fingers point
And brows are furrowed
With this popular tourist affair

The older woman
Talks of her girlfriend
I whisper, you know, sublimely self-aware

Eyes in sunken sockets
Yes, you guessed it
They said to stop and stare

So, to prevent raucous laughter
You put your finger to your lip
As if you were musing, with Tony Blair

No wonder he turned Catholic
After that new labour crawl
We said we will, we will, do or dare

The American eschews her gravy
Then talks through the silence
For she has neither style, nor care


Monday, 3 May 2021

Places of Purpose

A cellar
A corridor
A cafe
A coffee
A cake
A copper pipe or two

A chair
A camera
A cathedral
A city
A country
A copper pipe or two

The queue is quintessential
Everywhere we go
It is we who are deferential
Beneath the line of snow

I have to tell you something
of the Duomo
Whose dead centre
is directly above

Its chairs are not built for comfort
And its columns are black and white
The faces are not for smiling
And the doubters, they do seem a shade uptight


Sunday, 2 May 2021

Smiling Service

There is a smile
On top of my coffee
The maître d'
Sure has a sense of humour

So I sip my drink slowly
Try hard not to displace
The artistic impression
As you enter the room

And what’s more
In this multi-cultural city
They now play Ravel’s Bolero
Although no one dances

If it takes a while
Then it takes a while
If we can have a queue
Then we do have a queue

Do not become frustrated
Have a coffee, with cake
The future will be reinstated
In this city without a timetable

But, for the sake
Of your continued good health
We relieve you of your lira
With our undoubted style


Saturday, 1 May 2021

Waiting Service

The smiling lady
Looks after
The invalid man
With a touch of love

The fat, and the thin
Raise my chagrin
By attempting to take
My reserved table

Master of all he surveys
The manager of this cafe
Casts a long shadow
Over all of his underlings

Now I hesitate
For no one else is here
But I must make it clear
This is my reserved table

Let me tell you
It is with some discomfort
That I turn people away
As I order myself a cappuccino

The room is now almost entirely full
Well, except that is
There are three empty seats
At my reserved table