shot glass
title
"... brevity is the soul of wit ..."
- William Shakespeare

Joseph Gastiger


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Verdigris

When I can't help feeling melancholy,
I go to see the little bronze people
locked up in cases in a practically
empty museum. Flute players, courtesans,

soldiers and soothsayers–we could have
all danced together at harvest, long before
Christ. I bring my bad luck there, very near
closing time, nodding to each small worn-out

god. I think they whisper back, as the dead
do sometimes–warn of what's coming, give me
advice. But in Etruscan, which, lovely as
it may be, nobody alive understands.