A Trick of Perspective

This appeared, with very slight differences, in The Melic Review.

We haven’t an excuse. Across the black
Perspective gimmick of the bay the boats
Are barely visible, yet here we are,
Watching and squinting, as though we were ernes
On holiday. (Ernes live in puzzle books,
A figment of the crossword, curtly vowelled.)
We do not see the fish beneath the white
And roiling surface, nor the lords who live
Over the curvature. (Borneo is
Speculative: though editors assert
It ought to be Brittanicaed, you can’t
Prove that by me.) Out here our stars are shaped
To sell cold drinks. Our room begins to sound
Like home, but with more towels. (There is a robe,
But we are going to dis-. We can’t afford
The cost of clothes, not with a moon like that.)
On such a night as this Jessica changed
Her faith for ducats. Our Discover card
Embraces lands beyond the curvature
Of thigh, where light and heat both are induced
By friction. And the dolphins leap to light.

Security at an Exhibition

We stand where we are stood, assigned to fill

A vacuum till the posh begetters come.
Trust us for that. The portraits say their names,
Whereas our labels are not blessed with art
Or opulence. From pockets we spill keys
And gummi bears and Zippos from the war,
Absent the ruffs and velvet hats. Our skies
Are free of putti, pennies in a jar
Betray no pudgy burgher here. We stare,
But are not scanned. We are the dragons now,
Extant beyond the borders of the frame;
And look at this one, gilt and dark and grime:
The demigods are falling from the trees
Like caterpillars, waiting for the change.