THE WEDDING OF MATTHEW AND MACARENA,

A clutch of monkeys, tails held high, amble
Across the lawn. Capybara loll. They
Move a muscle no more than once an hour.
Barbed-winged birds swoop in aggressive defence.

On our way to the chapel, trees danced a crazy
Samba. Lightning flashed and bamboo poles split. The
Priest turned up with minutes to spare. Violins sawed
Out of tune, flashbulbs popped, both bride and groom smiled tears.

In a thatched cabin a dozen nationalities and
More gathered to festejar. I found myself, pre-speech nerves,
Chatting to an ex-marine, more scared of argentine
Drivers than the near-miss of a Baghdad roadside bomb.

The samba sprawled long into the night. Caped
Crusaders, feet flying in flip flops, fuelled by Cai
Pirinha, music, love. The storm passed, the stars
Dined out, toasts all done and tears turned to laughter.

sao paulo 20.09.04