When I ask if she knew Iron Maiden
filmed the music video for “Can I Play with Madness”
she almost screams under
“Christ! Is nothing sacred to you?”
Her irony I decide
is best left unmentioned.
I kick a piece of crumble, amble
away from the group. Leaning hard
against an archway, I look down
at the muddy Wye. Behind me,
our guide concludes
the tour by reading Wordsworth.
Down the hill,
a shepherd bleats his sheep to pasture,
dogs scuttling around the dirty, white
froth of a flock, the whole scene
so pastoral I want to puke.