Tuesday, October 11, 2016

for akash, the bangladeshi rose peddler

I don't want to know what you've seen
If it was only Italian after Italian
Fumbling out of Italian cars
Same faces, different partners
Outside street-spilling bars
Broken hearts and wine bottles
Crushed like blood under the stars...

If it was only this, as you told me,
You could fill a book
But I've seen your hungry mouth rejected
That youthful face turned one-hundred and one
No more roses they cried
But you were never undone
And each time you saw me, Bella! an extra rose
No use refusing, you always won

And I remember a blurry photo
That you showed me on your phone
Of a daughter you'd yet to hold
Born a thousand miles back home
And I remember you hopping trains
With no ticket in hand
And I remember
I suppose
It was something powerful to give
I suppose
Well...weren't we both alone
And far from family
And tired of Italy
Of surviving?
I remember your approval
When I told you I was leaving
"Fai bene!"
I don't know how
You had any light left to give
HOW thick is your skin?

No comments:

Post a Comment