1.

I was standing in the lobby of my mind

on the tiled floor beneath the colonnade,

the marble, the swags, the chandeliers, the bosses,

the whole baroque like a vast wedding cake

that’s set to squash you, when the voices came.

They were the movies of a childhood game

where terror was the moment before the break,

where the present tense was pregnant with her losses

and scenes our fathers or our mothers made

that drove us deaf and left us mad and blind.

2.

It was the glamorous era of first speaking,

of songs, and dancing feet, the costumes bright

as galaxies, the choreography of masters

with visions that prefigured the late war.

It was buoyant, fearsome, perfect, very loud,

and in my mind I was part of the great crowd

still jostling in the foyer or at the bar.

There were sylphs in satin draped round the pilasters

who’d remain there right through the long night,

who’d not mind gunfire or the roof leaking.