so the marathon
number 18 in Rome. not my number.
didn’t run but walked instead
to see the start
under blue skies and helicopters.
we were on the small hill near piazza Venezia
they ran right by us, twenty thousand of ‘em
no, i didn’t count, someone else said.
one runner was shocked to hear
voices in the crowd shout “die” as
he ran by the coliseum.
he thought they didn’t like Americans,
but these were Italians
they yelled not die, but dai,
equivalent to “go for it”
or “give it all you’ve got.”
Sunday, April 15, 2012
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1 comment:
Poor runner. Your poem made me smile.
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