Winning poem: Roman Poetry Competition
Belinda Broughton (left) and judge Jacqueline Clarke
Featured below is the winning poem by Belinda Broughton.
The Weeping and the Wailing
After Catullus’ Poem 3
Granted it was a very sweet thing—the little finch
she loved so much—hopping around like a wind-up toy
and twittering in her ear. And it would settle in her lap
as if it really loved her. Certainly it trusted her.
It’s dead. That’s sad don’t you think? I mean
it’s always sad when something so sparkling with life
lies in your hand as still as a corpse, because it is a corpse,
a delicate thing on its one-way trip to nothingness.
But the weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth,
she’s cried more tears than the size of the bird,
out of all proportion. But then, who am I to say,
hard-hearted bastard that I am; all I care about
is how red and swollen her beautiful eyes are.
There, there, Darling, cry your tears on my shoulder;
let them out; be done with it.
Now, come to bed.
