Domus - - CONFETTI -

Go on; am­ble down Au­gustin­er­straße.

I can re­lieve you for a bit,

I know of the bur­dens of the world.

Al­low your sis­ters to mas­sage your shoul­ders, they do not need hands to bear the bur­dens of this world­like

their Athe­nian soror­ity des­tined to over­see the golden city, it’s the right tilt of head that holds up the ed­i­fice.

The maidens of Karyai con­stantly aware, con­stantly looked at keep a vigil for prodding selfie sticks out­side the li­brary on the Josef­s­platz

She holds the ech­i­nus in place, while I re­place my head with hers and al­low her bur­dens to sink onto my skull.

I see a skip in her step, as she saun­ters off. Her chi­ton swishes, a twin­kle of an­kle.

The bur­den I am left with set­tles all too quickly. The ladies no­tice this, grunt and turn away.

They eye each other know­ingly, whis­per in Farsi be­hind my back, in­sin­u­ate that Kha­har-joon may never re­turn.

She’s off to res­cue their fallen hamshi­rah from Rodin’s gatesyou may know what bur­den is, but we know the mean­ing of pun­ish­ment.

My shoul­ders wob­ble; my weight trans­lates from left leg to right bring­ing an un­fore­seen asym­me­try to the en­sem­ble out­side the Pallavicini.

My neck gives way, a piece of the ped­i­ment crumbles just miss­ing a Korean group, bound by blue­tooth and pea­cock feather.

You had one job, they tell me, you did not have to like it; just an­other Harry Lime, you, all ar­clights and cur­tains.

They shunt me out, or­der is re­stored.

Man, you should stick to po­etry, leave the bur­dens of the world to us.

This page: Cary­atids and bro­ken ped­i­ment, Palais Pallavicini, Vi­enna (Josef­s­platz), 1784, Jo­hann Fer­di­nand Het­zen­dorf von Ho­hen­berg Op­po­site page, top: Casa Batlló, Barcelona, 1904, An­toni Gaudí; bot­tom: Te­la­mon (At­las) Sala Ter­rena, Up­per Belvedere, Vi­enna, 1717/1732-33, Jo­hann Lukas von Hilde­brandt

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