a poem



On a boat-bus in Venice, thinking away.

Getting excited about the Rialto bridge,

the watery streets and sweet treats.

And floating there, I fell quiet.

The chatter around faded down

and that magical place felt like

space in an alien time.

As the steady boat engine hum

gently led me toward a new state

I reflected that years away, within a dream

I was afloat and in time

upon white marble steps

to a pristine mansion I did stride.

Both emerged from the brine.

That scene stayed with me,

resonating deep inside.

that zen moment ended

when my ear again began

to give me altitude pain and I was

straight back on the plane

which brought me there

earlier that day.

I don’t know what I felt

but it grew.

I couldn’t shake the guilt and I knew

A sickness, a weakness would

take me as I reviewed

Every toilet door click and coffee pour

Like sick on the strip-lit plane floor.

Back on the boat, residual

fumes burned my throat

as a deadly, heady stench

embraced me,  eyes

already melting on the

shimmering petrol sea.

I stood on that deck

and stinking waves dissolved

renaissance pavements,

those roughly shuffled buildings

broke and down into a

broiling Adriatic sea. Perished.

-A bubbling mass before me.

That rattling airbus shattered

thoughts of the peaceful

idyll, unceasing repeats of

cabin crew’s scripted views,

pouring brews, touting booze

to seat-strapped people

left me feeling a bit used.

The gently lulling canal rides

and the sing-song lapping tides

against those marble steps

lay destroyed.

I felt regret

in my watery depths.

I stepped off that boat

on to stone and

superfluous glut.

Fur-lined females fondled

tiny, nervous dogs

once removed from the chop

while blokes posed, comatose

in fancy clothes, January tan

the cash sprayed warpaint

of the modern man.

The streets were flooded

Waders wearing specially

made throwaway boots

splashed by.

Countless, electronic camera

clicks echoed the soft waves gentle slap on moored boat hulls.

Stone steps drop down into the water

Between a street and a bridge end.


a poem