Hotel Vienna

      now that no one loves me tiny angels 
relinquish their architecture to circle my cheekbones   
  their shields outstretched 

  some surge through narrow alleys prickling the air       
some whisper comfort into carriage horses’ ears

     now that no one loves me angels sleep
on worn velvet sofas in Café Hawelka 
  while coffee passes hand to hand above their heads    

three bald angels arrange insects on a woman’s shoulder 
  stretching out each black spiny leg

  some extinguish the exit signs 
      inside vast glowing museums 

some smoke outside on the grand verandas                 

      now that no one loves me angels 
unhook each precious painting 
  to set the trees inside them free           

    some bestow straw-and-flower garlands 
  upon wool-suited matrons for me        

without love here  Nietzsche wrote the world is deep

ξ

Katharine Whitcomb is the author of four collections of poems, including The Daughter’s Almanac (The Backwaters Press/University of Nebraska Press), chosen by Patricia Smith as the winner of The Backwaters Press Prize. She has had work published in The Paris Review, Bennington Review, Poetry Northwest, Narrative, Kenyon Review, and many other journals and anthologies.