I came
\nthinking of the wall
\nthat halved you long ago
\nI came unprepared
\nfor what you\u2019ve become<\/p>\n\n\n\n
East to West
\nCoca-Cola and McDonalds
\nSpaghetti and Tandoori
\nlight global candles
\non concrete mantles and glass screens
\nyour days filter into lit nights
\ngently scouring the blot
\nfrom an old and evil desire<\/p>\n\n\n\n
At Zoologischer Garten Endorsements on your billboards It is six decades since Jesse Owens Whilst I hum millennium chants Milena your daughter says Your Seventh Hill In your restaurants Another daughter Yordininka A chronicler feeds my ears On this rising Dublin staked out Viking raiders \u2018In summer the mountain drapes a purple shawl, Down in the valley a river boundary I felt the presence of God I pondered about aphrodisiacs comparing altitudes Ensconced between curious minds Your scraggly faces of squalor Pieces of your history from Papa Doc I felt a tightening around my ticker In the end I shut my eyes It was Wyclef, one of your own Of a Sweetest Girl in distress What a difference a season makes My maiden anger at your winter rot Sinatra\u2019s eulogy of a sudden makes sense New York, New York In Queens it dawned on me Tearducts of a burdened river Visions of the Nature Brigade I joined them at the corner But the spring in the steps Berlin 1997<\/strong><\/p>\n I came
\nthe World congregated to engage
\nthe past and savour your present
\none full length poster spoke
\nfor silenced children:
\n\u2018Geschlossen wegen Einsamkeit\u2019
\n<\/em>Mehr zeit fur kinder<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\nwere of humour and happier times;
\nof Chasing Amy one philosophised:
\n\u2018Sex ist einfach- Liebe ist schwer\u2019
\n<\/em>greeted by a long queue of lovers
\nseeking to learn a lesson or two
\nin the darkness of cinema halls<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\nhis testimony and your new wisdom
\nwarm U-bahn seats for my tribe
\nspread beyond Afrikaanistiche Strasse
\nbut your grapevine is full
\nof the scourge of Istanbul\u2019s children
\na new rage for a new age?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\nof harmony among men
\nopen up Berlin, open more
\nfor that which is to come
\nthat knows no borders!<\/p>\n\n\n\nPlovdiv<\/strong><\/h3>\n\n\n\n
\nYou\u2019re a city founded on art.
\nOn your cobbled streets
\nThe edges of interlocking stones
\nTell a story of human inventiveness<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\nBlasted into the bits
\nOf ornament on which the soles
\nOf shoes wear out
\nTo feed the souls
\nOf a thousand tourists
\nScouring the virgin lands
\nYou opened to the world<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\nRe-enactments of periods of history
\nBy amateur actors and actresses
\nOttoman Turks, Armenians
\nAnd Gypsies trace.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\nImprinted incredible on my mind
\nWith an accent<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nOn Small Wicklow<\/strong><\/h3>\n\n\n\n
\nWith centuries\u2019 old secret of valour
\nSewn into the spine of The Bog<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\nAnd the Saxons that followed in their heels
\nBog-knights shackling their warrior hooves<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\nYou\u2019ll rarely recognize it\u2019, Alison said
\nOf Wicklow\u2019s carpet of heather stumps
\nA cold breeze crossed my arms across my chest
\nAs mountain sheep grazed in tactical retreat<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\nBetween our hump and Big Wicklow
\nSmoke rose from houses on the flanks
\nNot of arson but of dinner and warmth<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\nUntil I saw protective coats and coupled silhouettes
\nStamped into Wicklow\u2019s grassy crest
\nIn the wind, groans of love and lust mingled
\nWith casualties of ancient bog wars<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\nRemembering coats on Tory Hills and Tramore Beach
\nClose to home in Port Lairge.<\/p>\n\n\n\nHaiti<\/strong><\/h3>\n\n\n\n
\nOn a spectacle-seeking tour bus
\nOne rugged dusty country road
\nLed my wandering to a Sharman
\nIn your rowdy market place<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\nDashed my Caribbean fantasy
\nAs you knocked the open sore
\nI nurse from my distant homeland<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\nTo gangly Aristide stitched together from
\nStories I culled from a cynical press
\nRe-run your spectacle like horror on celluloid
\nThese were not the tales by moonlight I sought<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\nAnd the warmth of stray tears
\nStrolling down my cheek
\nTestimony to our tangled umbilical cords<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\nAnd let my MP3 take me to therapy
\nFar far away from you
\nFrom the dirge you began to play<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\nAnd one of mine too on a family tree
\nRooted in centuries of history
\nSinging with cousin Akon<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\nStill sad, but a thousand times
\nBetter than your offer on the day.<\/p>\n\n\n\nReturn to NY<\/h1>\n\n\n\n
\nWhat change is fashioned by time
\nScales that blot out initial visions of you.
\nHow sentiments and attitudes flow
\nWith the tides of a passing age
\nFor fresh beauty to adorn the scapes
\nOf new days, New York, New York.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\nHas abated, subdued by endless dazzle
\nDrudgery once set deep in your eyes
\nNow polished to a shine in Brooklyn
\nBeyond the bridge intoxicates me
\nLike bridal wine, New York, New York<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\nIn the sprightly folks on Manhattan\u2019s streets
\nThe lustful gaze of your crowned libertine
\nExplains the world\u2019s appetite for your bosom
\nCentral Park and Broadway step-ladders
\nOn to another world except for packs
\nOf hooligans or those you forgot to rouse
\nAnd take along who won\u2019t forgive your slip<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\nYour freeways and escalators
\nYellow cabs and giant burgers
\nFabrics for fantasy for the virgin traveler
\nYour glitter and litter objects of strange desire
\nTout le Monde<\/em>!<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\nYour children know you even as you know them
\nThey remain one of a kind snugging you
\nIn a gale of enchantment that never ends
\nThe rest of us outsiders scramble to catch a glimpse
\nOf your spectacle in package travel deals
\nWe go to sleep imagining bits of you
\nIn our bones and homes, even hopes
\nAnd even oftener in dreams we return to you,
\nFor more, New York, New York.<\/p>\n\n\n\nTempe, Arizona<\/h3>\n\n\n\n
\nsirens for a distressed eco-system
\nas the Colorado feeds sprinklers
\nfor a carpet of green vanity
\non the luscious lawns of Tempe<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\nbehind diswatered mermaids
\nand other homeless amphibians
\nin a protest march down Apache Boulevard
\npast the Holiday Inn<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\nof Adam South\u2019s run
\nafter I tanked up on doritos,
\nno one should go to war
\nrunning on empty.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\nof those who marched with me,
\nthe excitable faces of the 4WD damsels
\nwho flashed coconut boobs alongside us
\nin racing traffic on the Freeway
\ngot me thinking about the schmuck hero
\nwho labelled women lubricants of the revolution,
\nand how a nation in synchronised
\norgasm defines the axis of evil
\nI was lost on the moment.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
\nthinking of the wall
\nthat halved you long ago
\nI came unprepared
\nfor what you\u2019ve become<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":1804,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[6],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-969","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/mtls.ca\/issue21\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/969","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/mtls.ca\/issue21\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/mtls.ca\/issue21\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mtls.ca\/issue21\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mtls.ca\/issue21\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=969"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/mtls.ca\/issue21\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/969\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2254,"href":"https:\/\/mtls.ca\/issue21\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/969\/revisions\/2254"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mtls.ca\/issue21\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/1804"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/mtls.ca\/issue21\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=969"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mtls.ca\/issue21\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=969"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mtls.ca\/issue21\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=969"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}