How to fill a space that has been lost, has sunk
In water. Graveyard of lost beams and barques.
A midriff that shackles itself to the laguna like an old mariner’s
Body. Do not talk to me. Her charming view is there
To rest, rest against her, sloshing in lullaby rhythm. And how
Venetian sirens dive lithely into the forecastle.
The Nonexistent Spaces
We were the ships, we were built, we departed
How to fill a space that has been lost, has sunk
There is a language that cannot be suppressed: may I adopt
The wind blows through you hair, columns hide the years
Nifty Matron, with sensuous hair and breast, the gondola will
The way through is the space of dogs sniffing marble
Colour is hardly a diversion here. The transparent light
The nonexistent spaces in the Arsenale! The swaying columns
How to fill a space that has been lost, has sunk
There is a language that cannot be suppressed: may I adopt
The wind blows through you hair, columns hide the years
Nifty Matron, with sensuous hair and breast, the gondola will
The way through is the space of dogs sniffing marble
Colour is hardly a diversion here. The transparent light
The nonexistent spaces in the Arsenale! The swaying columns