1
The Hungarian waitress is the only one
who understands even a little English
as two Japanese newly-weds put on
a lesson in etiquette so deeply elaborate
it might be ritual, a free table-show
that has the locals laying down their forks,
just short of applause: Tenderness squared,
how in turn she serves him, he serves her,
now improvises a spaghetti sandwich,
now pours twin-glasses of cut-price wine
three-wheelered in weekly from Frascati:
‘Brindisi!’/ toasts all round: A Peruvian
and then this British divorcee grin
ruefully from our separate corners.
2
All at once the air abrim with vowels
as back in the kitchen a cook launches
into ‘Le donne son mobili’
accompanied by clattering plates.
Noses ultra-Roman in their dimensions -
friendliness of the Syrian to my right
balanced on a knife-edge, across his face
scars that might make a gladiator proud.
The regular in the corner winks
and sighs. Beneath a hotly-spiced cloud
now enter a heap of kidneys from heaven -
every seven minutes or so the next train
for Lazio parallel to the window
and trailing whistles, thunder, oblongs of light.
Bookmark/Search this post with:
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
