At the Cafe San Marco

‘And all the dishes were Lalique --’
‘Alice
Being as usual quite banal --’
‘But both of them, my dear,
Within a week, dead as a dogfish
In the Grand Canal.’

‘Ever the sexual parasite - ’
‘Dennis
Imploring, much the worse for beer,
Swearing he’d marry Gladys out of spite --
And now’s he’s gone quite ga-ga,
Poor old dear.’

And in its own lagoon of light
Venice
Still glitters like eternity,
Fades in a deep pink sunset every night
And sinks another inch
Into the sea.