PIAZZA DELLA CARMINE / THE TWO TIMES
AT 7:30 TONIGHT:
Unable to traverse the swallow’s path
Or tread roof tiles as the agile cat,
upon his brothers’ labouring backs
A polychrome Christ will make a rough pilgrimage of His own;
Pillar bound, to that church above from this one below.
Square-shouldered, tow-haired nine-year old will run and clap
His acolyte’s bell laughingly at black curls that lap
The tender nape of his fellow impenitent in Mary’s blue.
And so this honour guard will hew
four hundred years of progress’ path
Pelligrinago from first to last,
Across the stuck in stones.
AT 5:30 THIS AFTERNOON
Piazza della carmine is desirous of tumbling towards the sea.
Boys gyre round parked cars in this town the Greeks begot.
A truck full of music winds lamenting through the streets;
Calling forth ancient Eves to buy their compassionate widow’s tot
Of what, to Adam’s sweaty brow, this fallen earth bequeaths.
poem and photo copyright Bonnie McClellan 2011 all rights reserved
This poem is the third in a suite of poems written about 24 hours in Caulonia Superiore.
FANTASTIC! lOVE THE NEW LOOK OF THE PAGE AS WELL
I’m slow on the uptake. I love the second segment’s sound, and I get an image of the truck full of music… then everything gets crowded. The truck has fruit and vegetables? Where did the compassionate widows come from? And their tots? Help, I’m lost!
Yes, the “truck full of music” is a vegetable vendor, and “tot” as in a small amount (in English). It’s used in Italian to mean any fixed amount of stuff/people.
The Eves are widowed (therefore living on fixed incomes) and so can buy just enough to keep the ‘truck patch vendor’ and his disco blaring vehicle in business along with the local Adam’s (the fellows who plow and sow small plots of land in the valley below the town).
I have to give credit for both “stuck-in-stones” and “truck-full-of-music” to my daughter. She was two at the time and came up with these lovely circumlocutions to describe her experience with stone paved streets and vegetable sellers.
Thanks for the explanatory note.
A STILETTO SLASH
Long is the way to midnight
When you follow the swallow
Or maybe is it a starling
Who can say the nature of the bird
That leads the path
Vultures keep seated
On top of the cypress
Wind is blowing
Though the sassafras
Brainstorming at any time
Red square white room
Blood and cream like
Bald and crime dice
Play it again sam
While we stay over the bombs
glossy black back
towering sigh press
line the path
dusted with pollen-
to the deer-less field
sap(ient), oh lymphic tears
cling to his trunk
bears away his arms.
– good to see you GMC
Bonnie – I really enjoyed your retake on Caulonian Suite – The story of Robin’s response to goats & c. Love you. Dad.