Back in a long ago summer I was working on a remodeling project in the suburbs of the Sicilian town of Marsala, a stunningly beautiful place where Garabaldi’s ‘mille’ made their first landing: the beginning of the work-still-in-progress known as Italian Unification.
Contrary to the myth one hears in Northern Italy, I saw southern Italian’s working hard from six in the morning until four in the afternoon with not much of a break. I recall, after lunch, laying down on the cool tile floor before launching into the next part of the project…and this poem about the often unsung pleasures of manual labour:
Caulk it all up to experience…
I’ve had enough silicone under my nails
To make a fertility goddess of a Hollywood starlette
(or at least to make five clean breasts of it).
You’d think I’d have the bank account
Of a Brazilian plastic surgeon by now…
Folks don’t pay the big bucks
To have their tiles enhanced.
Will I list this work on my table of discontents?
It could be a Tuesday.
I could be anchored to an anonymous desk
In some downtown gratte-ciel looking out a window that isn’t there
Blinking against no sunlight, thinking:
“Out, out brief candle.”
then, looking down at the shame of clean and idle hands:
“If only I had enough silicone under my nails
To make a fertility goddess of a Hollywood starlette…”
To read more of the back story click HERE.
Just marvelous. Thumbs down to clean and idle hands!
thanks for stopping by to read it…nothing like silicone caulk to make one re-think the benefits of an office job :).