when he got off the boat he knew he was home this is an old city a hive we're plugged in cheek by jowl tush by thigh the Queen and the undertaker
candlestick maker the streets alive with workers and drones heroes
zeros I went down the National Gallery* found I'm jaded now everything's smaller Leonardo's faded now Renoir's little girl a crack in the oil disfigures her face we've aged only the Monets delight I walked home long miles nothing this is old city with narrow streets where cars rage like blood this is my heart beat
(see also "London" in more poems)
photo by Evelyn Kean
* sung to the tune of St. James Infirmary
more or less
