Four Poems

Tourism

Like the relief of markets -
Their saffron-coloured cloths and carpets;
Purification where two rivers cross; or the widening line of light
Entering Newgrange on the winter solstice -

A manufactured prophesy of spring -
The Spanish and the Dutch are landing in airports
And filing out of ships. Our day has come.

They bring us deliverance, restitution,
As we straighten our ties, strengthen our lattés
Polish our teeth. We take them to those streets
They want to see most, at first,

As though it's all over and safe behind bus glass
Like a staked African wasp. Unabashedly, this is our splintered city
And this, the corrugated line between doorstep and headstone.

Next, fearing summary,
...