you blow me kisses
from Juliet's balacony
as if you were
the real thing.
Suddenly we're Shakespearean
& the play's the thing.
'Oh Donall Donall...
...wherefore art thou... Donall! '
I kneel before her
statue
her left breast
all shiny
rubbed for luck
by touchy touristy
hands and loud guffaws!
Here in Verona
amongst its ancient amphitheatre
I sing mock opera
and 'La Travitia.'
'Come...do the Christian thing
& throw me to your loins! '
You run.
Your laughter echoing
amongst ruins and long gone times.
That summer
(there in Verona)
Juliet & Travita
were real
and alive
yet it is
we now
who have become
fictional characters
our love now
only a story
a thing
of mere memory.
'Oh Anu...Anu...
wherefore art thou...Anu! '
Dónall Dempsey
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/here-in-verona/
