The Tenor Finds His Love Dead in His Embrace
Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem
The Venice he has known gives only sighs,
Sighs. Never mind the Bridge of Sighs, not quite
Tears — they would be love’s therapy. In guise
Of Carnevale love has been like spite
At every turning, ponti leading to
Rejection his of passion when an eye
As dark as sex blinks off his eye of blue.
The gondola sweeps past as biceps ply
Canals for women. More mosaic than
Byzantine beauty, bronze Venetians dressed
