you blow me kisses
from Juliet's balacony

as if you were
the real thing.

Suddenly we're Shakespearean
& the play's the thing.

'Oh Donall Donall...
...wherefore art thou... Donall! '

I kneel before her
statue

her left breast
all shiny

rubbed for luck
by touchy touristy
hands and loud guffaws!

Here in Verona
amongst its ancient amphitheatre

I sing mock opera
and 'La Travitia.'

'Come...do the Christian thing
& throw me to your loins! '

You run.

Your laughter echoing
amongst ruins and long gone times.

That summer
(there in Verona)

Juliet & Travita

were real
and alive

yet it is
we now

who have become
fictional characters

our love now
only a story

a thing
of mere memory.

'Oh Anu...Anu...
wherefore art thou...Anu! '

Dónall Dempsey

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/here-in-verona/