Sunset, Bosphorus Ferry

David Dumouriez

Our impassive viewer stares ahead.

This man – without an equal in the angle

of his coat and square – allows

the cherry lines that cut the mosques

to fill his eyes. Above, a veinous horror

hand looks briefly poised to intervene

(exact a toll or not, is that the debate?).

This scene, beloved of lists, known

instantly worldwide, is not less

than compelling; a rebirth every time.

So what’s his failure to engage?

The lack of danger? The atmosphere of

nothing more than this? A feeling that

it’s not his world, not now, nor ever will be?

*

David Dumouriez’s childhood dream of retiring as soon as he left school was thwarted by a fundamental lack of money or marketable talent. Since then he’s wandered here and there and proved himself to be an eager participant in several trades and a master of none of them.

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