Peter Stileman
Conversation among the ruins
(after the painting by De Chirico - 1927)
‘Come on. I dare you’, said she, perching there
eyes tempting me, her bosom half revealed.
‘Or aren’t you man enough?’
A peasant boy, in my best Sunday suit,
I look at her. My eyes black with desire
I almost leap at her across the tablecloth.
But something holds me back.
I am aware of heavy furniture;
of Caesar, marble, watching from the side;
of all the buttons fastening my suit.
The floor is squared and chequered like a board.
I feel we are involved in some weird game.
We are.
The house is a stage set;
the mountains outside merely scenery
and we? mad thoughts in someone’s brain -
as you are - viewer/ reader.
I might have had her then
but that same brain who made us be
froze us in art for all the world to see.
Page(s) 12
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