It’s been a little while since I posted a poem on here, so I thought I’d share this one today. It was inspired by a poem by the Roman poet Catullus (one of my favourite poets), from which I took the title – it means, roughly, ‘evil Troy’. Just across the straits from Troy is Gallipoli, which saw more slaughter millenia later, prompting me to wonder what the dead of those two wars might say to each other.
Do they wander unseen among the hordes
of tourists in the crumbled ruins of Troy?
Those shades of Trojan and Achaean lords,
of noble Hector, fearsome Achilles
and the unnumbered wraiths of lesser men
culled as the harvest of the heroes’ spears.
And are they glad that still, time and again
their deaths are re-imagined for the screen;
romanticised, as if each stolen life
was taken in a worthwhile cause, and not
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