poem about my first visit to New York City in 93; unfortunately I had something like chronic fatigue syndrome
and felt I was going to faint with dizziness half the time, but it didn't stop me enjoying the Impressionist paintings and the companionship of my native New Yorker. Long ago and far away now!

THE METROPOLITAN

'An encounter with the pride
of the Iberians
and the art of the Impressionists.'



These two Latin types
came into New York’s Metropolitan Museum
as if they were looking
for a fight.

You and I
were looking for information at the desk –
where is the French Impressionist
exhibition?

These two Latin types
gave me a long hard look, as if to say –
We know who you are
and where you’re coming from!

You and I
met in Ireland, at the Poet’s House,
which is a long way from
New York’s Metropolitan,

but these two Latin types,
with one look, seemed to recognize me,
possibly as a potential hit –
who knows?

Maybe it was
my thinness, my long blue coat
which caught their eye –
strange clothes!

Maybe it was you
being with me
(I’m not noted for boorish masculinity);
maybe they spotted
an incongruity!

These two Latin types
were darkly handsome. They wore leather
Bombers and they meant
Business,

but you and I
were not their business – I was positive
of that. They passed
swiftly on their way

leaving us in peace,
in love, inside
New York’s Metropolitan
Museum of Fine Art!