Hunting Dada In Zurich by Michael Wyndham

The river, respectable
and see-through,
astonishing you as
one born to the dirty
architecture of the Thames.
And between hotel and hospital
you cannot tell, as we all
are patients and must be
cleansed to prevent decadence.
You navigate Spiegelgasse
with a map of Geneva;
but it’s no remedy for
a city proudly purged of folly.
At last you reach Cabaret
Voltaire, but here is no
hallowed temple for there’s
no communion with the
spirits of Janco, Ball or Tzara;
only a film registering Dada’s
origins, archived with all the
significance of a battle re-enactment.

Michael Wyndham is a regular performer on the London poetry circuit, and has been most recently published by International Times, Blue of Noon, The Recusant and South Bank Poetry.



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