Da Gama returns


I have taken refuge
In travelogues,
Bare silk-screen images of
Evening cityscapes
Giving in to a garish-clad sky;
A tourist romance,
Postcard edges feathered
By the contents
Of the bottle I lay with
With increasing faithfulness.

Cigar smoke spills
From the balcony, its flight
That of a skulking dog,
Guilty tail between its legs.
Vasco Da Gama’s return
If he’d had one
Could have been like this –
The sway of mocking palm trees,
To purposeless ocean scenery
And in the now unseen harbor –
Ships not his.

(2004)


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Da Gama returns