Jonathan Steffen
Never quite empty and never quite full, The motel car park ebbs and flows With vehicles that suddenly all look the same.
You have so many colours, My Heidelberg, My borrowed patch of home,
I am a restaurant waiter Like any other restaurant waiter: I wear out my shoes and my bones Walking back and forth
The spirit of Fernando Pessoa permeates modern Portugal like a watermark a sheet of letter-paper.
Thus should love start, thus should love start: A slow chill creeping on the heart
The moments when we meet Alight like a bird on my hand
Do not love me too much, do not love me too much, For there’s trust in my eye but there’s flight in my touch
Amazingly, the thing I want to write about Is the colour of the coat you wore that winter.
We were inveterate readers, you and I – The Penguin Modern Classics generation: We took our values from that pale grey spine
How shall I hold you, gone from me soon? I shall hold you to me as the cloud holds the moon.
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