Squinting
Old soul wisdom awoken young extends life
I found clarity at a Devils game in ‘97
Great lights overhead
I blurred the colors
To turn commonplace askew
So it could last
And it did
Sneaking its way through my exclusive guest list.
I must reserve this trick
For the days trying to elude me
By dressing like ones before.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Thursday, September 8, 2011
The Watermelon Joke
Nonno Corrado looked across the church choir at 22 and spotted Nonna
in the back left of the girls’ section
He approached her that afternoon, and now I'm here.
Surely other Nonnos before him had their say in the matter
But they're not seated at the head of our dining room table
With a front row view of all they created.
Zia Anna plops the tray down before him
I know that Gin Rummy mask, he’s holding something big
He straightens his posture like I do when I’m flirting
He moves his Carlo Rossi jug aside so the spotlight finds him
Erica, the youngest of my cousins, grabs the first piece
His curtain opens.
Wadamelon good three ways: for eat, for drink, e-for wash the face!
I respond with two layers of laughter
The first is for respect
The second, upon seeing his face brighten, is pure.
I'm ready for my rebuttal
I lock my hands together
Lift them up to nose level, squint my eyes back at his, and shake
"ce` p`ccaaaaate"
I receive a two layered laugh in return
We take our bows
He disappears again behind Carlo.
I don't need translation when my uncles bring up the boat to America
And his eyes plunge into his plate like a scolded child
Or when Nonna leaves for the kitchen
And his color instantly fades.
I study the nose we share
And remember we almost shared a name
I slump down into my chair like he does when he thinks he’s alone
We will never discuss what we see behind each other's curtains.
in the back left of the girls’ section
He approached her that afternoon, and now I'm here.
Surely other Nonnos before him had their say in the matter
But they're not seated at the head of our dining room table
With a front row view of all they created.
Zia Anna plops the tray down before him
I know that Gin Rummy mask, he’s holding something big
He straightens his posture like I do when I’m flirting
He moves his Carlo Rossi jug aside so the spotlight finds him
Erica, the youngest of my cousins, grabs the first piece
His curtain opens.
Wadamelon good three ways: for eat, for drink, e-for wash the face!
I respond with two layers of laughter
The first is for respect
The second, upon seeing his face brighten, is pure.
I'm ready for my rebuttal
I lock my hands together
Lift them up to nose level, squint my eyes back at his, and shake
"ce` p`ccaaaaate"
I receive a two layered laugh in return
We take our bows
He disappears again behind Carlo.
I don't need translation when my uncles bring up the boat to America
And his eyes plunge into his plate like a scolded child
Or when Nonna leaves for the kitchen
And his color instantly fades.
I study the nose we share
And remember we almost shared a name
I slump down into my chair like he does when he thinks he’s alone
We will never discuss what we see behind each other's curtains.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
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