Who would you be without the self-
interrogation, comping
metastasized sidewalk cracks
with box lunch and permission slip? . . .
The stairwell echos your monologues . . .
Of course there was always a time . . .
Don't stop the dance, yes? . . .
Your costume entices showrunners
and proves there is a place
where you can be out among
the hoi polloi . . . with shopping cart
of anticipation which surprisingly
makes all the sense in the void . . .
Your twisted syntax is as it should be . . .
perhaps keeping meaning to yourself
capstone inscribed:
known as much for what was not said . . .
delightful in anagrams . . . insinuating
unscripted bookmarks with anachronisms . . .
plotting the future
as in a looking glass? . . .
What more could one ask? . . .
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| Antonio Palmerini |