Happy Thanksgiving, Moon

Posted by beth on November 26, 2009

In Italia, it’s Thanksgiving, but there’s no celebration.
Just the usual hum of scooters and midday libations.
There’s the cigarette smoke, the faint whiff of trash,
The gas man ringing the campanella.
There’s the hookers’ white boots, the pizza oven fire,
And the shady men whispering, “Ciao, bella.”

Happy Thanksgiving, scooters, happy Thanksgiving, wine,
Happy Thanksgiving, trash burning in the street.
Happy Thanksgiving, cigarettes, happy Thanksgiving, Agip,
Happy Thanksgiving, hookers’ feet.
Happy Thanksgiving, pizza, happy Thanksgiving, fire,
Happy Thanksgiving, campanella.
Happy Thanksgiving, Italia, happy Thanksgiving shady man
In your car, whispering, “Ciao, bella.”

Now leave me alone. I’m not a hooker.