Genova
Orange marmalade buses
in a traffic jam along the portside street
with Vespas and Fiats
and pedestrians on rush-hour feet.
Local fishmongers, displaying crab, carp
and swordfish, set up stall,
while nearby, waterway mermaids
wait outside bladderwrackety doors.
Columbus’ city of cats
cobbled together like cobblestones
curled up on car bonnets
or licking on leftover fishbones.
While in Centrostorico
in a riotous rundown taverna,
a haul of seafarers sink pasta and pesto
vino bianco and Grappa.
Having had a breakfast brioche
and Caffe Americano on Via Garibaldi,
I find myself down by the dock
looking out over the Ligurian Sea;
A compass spinning out of control
and seagulls circling the crow’s nest.
My Aquarian heart, waterladen
with what to do next.
Gevova revisited (or Cagliari)
I live here
in a dinky Genova.
Dinky buses and dinky boats
and dinky matchbox cars.
A destiny turning on a compass
getting dinkier by the minute,
I look over a dinky sea
with little fish trying to swim it.
Don’t get sea-weedy on me
the bladderwrackety blabbermouth says
much to the cormorants glee
and the seagulls who seagully gaze.
Thinking big makes thoughts
brain cell squeeze.
Get a dinky breakfast
down a via Garabaldi street.
I was talking to a friend tonight
about Columbus’ city of cats
and got to thinking about how 30 years is a long time
but went a bit, or dinkily, like that.
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Author: aprettykettleofpoetry
