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