Conference of Evening

Conference of Evening
by Kristian Meikop
From upon the stairs of the modern colosseum
In the sober conference of evening
The noise of cities sinks like a drone into mires
Grows light as a foghorn on the horizon while
I muse at the plumage of pigeons, hear them coo on
Russian cupolas silhouetted by white sinking
Suns; I sit with lowbrows and lovers on the pleasant
Sunstone, passages freeze like wide-open vignettes
And the breeze rings in rhythms and rooftops.
What’s the martyr’s ambition gone down
The drain? What life’s worth dying for? and such
Thoughts while shoeshine boys and holy
Magdalenas stir in the parking lot and fumes and
A billion dreams intertwine like electric spiders
on the solid hemisphere.