Spanish Steps
1.
sitting is a crime here
….baked marble
….spent ciggies
police whistles
.
2.
we traverse a three-edged tightrope
…..i victim blaming
….ii boogie man
….iii concerned parents
MadeleineMcCanngotsnatchedbybaddies
herskinaspaleasyours
neversawherparentsagain
stay close.
hold hands.
understand?
….well, it’s said out of love
edge-edge-edge
Every time those flying blue toys rise in
the oven night air she yells PICK POCKETS
and screams NEIN NEIN NEIN at pedlars til
they laugh kindly and leave us alone.
effective, huh?
child-as-alsatian
.
3.
cops are relentless.
DON’T SIT DOWN. STAND UP.
DON’T SIT DOWN.
imaginethatbeingyourjob
standingroundintheheat
beepbeepwhistle
pointing
aggro
DON’T SIT DOWN
.
4.
where sitting is a crime
we join a singalong
..share a joint
..belt out the Bandiera Rossa
..lay down for fun
..pretend collapse
..squat
..breastfeed
what? what’s wrong? sitting? oh.
add this to your edgelord tourist checklist
shrill (in english)
STAND UP.
.
5.
up top
marble radiating
fountain crowded
blue toys flung and caught
laser pointers on the Vatican dome
an italian-australian woman says hi.
she’s meeting a local guy
for a
secret tinder liaison.
shh, she says.
she hops in a car.
it has tinted windows.
i wonder if we’ll see
her face on the news
i try to remember
what she’s wearing
.
6.
we take a photo in Italy’s first Maccas
..grease and eau de wrong
walk and walk and walk
…orange trees fruiting
…over parking meters.
Rome breathes.
.
7.
1am at a fountain roundabout
starryeyedgoose here
“Rome Syndrome is Real”
…killjoy free zone
hey-lady-smile
a family – kids
..frolic in their undies
..splash in the fountain
..ice cold water almost
..too much on
Mum’s aching feet
Man walks by, smiles...
…killjoy free zone.
…be pleasant. SMILE.
Mum smiles back –
suburbanAustraliantightlipped
– turns back to kids
Man watches kids
drying out on the edge.
..enraptured \ delirious ..
..they look upside down at
..lights
Man’s vigorous stokes draw
Mum’s gaze to its round shine
beneath a street lamp
tug-tug-tug
….killjoy – up on yer feet
FUCK OFF! FUCK OFF!
roaring in english.
he gets the message.
shrugs, puts it away,
walks off like it’s
normal.
YOU FUCKING PERVERT
one-night-only
.
9.
3000 year old bricks
rough under fingertips.
eyes dart. heart thumps.
eternal Roman mortar,
stops Mum picking up a brick
and hunting that cunt down
to cave his skull in.
Heart of Civilisation
.
10.
DON’T SIT DOWN
…whistles come hither
…where are you now.
**
Big Burn
1.
Up there they bombed a bus
The year after Virginia arrived
Still
…………she gazes through time
At the spot
..where bodies
..blew skyward
Is she bemused, disturbed
Or simply awaiting your
Park-Picked-Floral-Tribute?
Seen enough,
Hadn’t she?
I’m in Bloomsbury
\ my kid is furious.
.
2.
They’re gonna have to come up with a plan
Out at Versailles
If they wanna keep those tourist dollars
Astheclimateapocalypsedrawsevercloser
won’t they.
Nobody wants to see melted art do they.
FuckMEit’shot.
.
3.
Kid: “You’re being rude to me.”
Mother, writing: “Shut up.”
[Repeat x3]
.
4.
people with moneytoburn on park drinks
muster for slaughter,
serenaded by niche kitchenshowmusic
in a temporarily picket-fenced area
can’t understand why those
schoolstrikebrats don’t just
stay in school or get a job.
brainwashed by leftist thugs.
we’re doomed
……………………./ nice drop this one
.
6.
Kid AngryShoves her dress over my face while I write
Laughs as the sunnies cut into my scalp til I cry out
If she were a grown man she’d be arrested by now.
Maybe.
.
7.
the heat was so oppressive that day
that we ran for the supermarket and
meandered very slowly up and down
the cold aisle trying to rid ourselves
of heatstroke. Took a taxi fifty metres
and admired the ruined cities of lost
civilisations and wondered if anyone
would be left to admire ours, or, if
they were round, I wonder if we’d be
classed as a lost ‘civilisation’ at all.
.
7.
No pen no gain
nopenagain
and to compose on a phone is to err
… you’re being rude to me
the kids are angry,
/ who can blame em?
.
8.
this is neither a room of my own,
Nor a city
_________________________________
Victoria Brookman is a writer, mother and scholar living in the Blue
Mountains. Her work has been published in Australian Humanities
Review, JMI, The Quarry, Cordite, and Sandstone, and her reviews
appear regularly in SEARCH News. She also writes at
www.suburbannerves.com
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