students from around Italy came to Roma to demonstrate
i had slept poorly but had to go to the bank anyway
before i left i lost my bank card, frantically i
searched every where, three times, for an hour
then lost another card, another Italian one
difficult to replace, but i saw one card this morning
kept searching, sweating, worrying, then found
both of them, in my jacket pocket during the third search
bused to the bank and did business with Antonio
i asked to see Antonino, but he left
and was replaced by Antonio
Antonino mean little Antonio
they aren't related, but look the same
then caught a cab to the other side of Roma
realized i left an important receipt at the bank
did business and talk in Parioli
had to call the bank anyway
Antonio said Monday I’d get the receipt
traffic would be bad today
the demonstration will be immense
left at noon and the mess began
buses were doing improvisational routes
my bus had young Paul McCartney on it
same mouth, hair and eyes
he got off into the crowd at the next stop
i looked out to see a young woman driver in
a small car, she had an earphone in each ear
was talking forcefully as she smoked
Paul was mysteriously back on our bus
i got off when the bus quit my direction
walked in confused crowds,came to Pasquali’s
how fortunate, it was lunch time
had spicy pasta maccinata and it was good
when i left i wondered if i had called him Luigi?
two streets later a police barricade blocked my way
a police commander sent me down another street
the crowd marched toward me
i wasn’t carrying a banner and
was headed into the throng
helicopters overhead nearly made as much noise
as music blared from speakers on the back of a truck
nothing changes, Italians like demonstrations
i made the long walk home, where
the hall light was still out, doing the key was difficult
Friday, November 14, 2008
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1 comment:
I like the way you recorded/reported this and also the continuity from the last half dozen poems. Losing things and finding things and Roma!
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