Poems

Water Bowl

Delicate silver fountain
rises sparkling
to rubbed drone
in Chinese water bowl
dance supreme

Stone and Steel

My father's father, cement in hair
glycerined his hands
after concrete work
Day by day, breath dusted
by thickened grey,
he built buildings and roads
for his brother's family
Mountainous Italian mine
sealed the first father in stone

My father, glycerine in hands,
builds a road for my mother:
Livingroom to bathroom
he snakes a path
pulling her across his Appian way
as he would have pulled
his own father from that
stony collapse

He has become his father's son
voracious metaphor mixer
hair stony grey
choosing for his own construction work
day by day readings
of only the fastest cars of steel

Full Speed Ahead to Ellis Island

Here's a story for you
He was five
when he and his mother
left Genoa for the country
paved in gold-
father dead in an Italian mine-
another metal search;
wartime, the scene of the crime
Rough waters came
so did a German submarine
It was World War I-
Italian civilians
were a target:
They knew what they were
in for

Some French sailor ship
got in the way
tried to warn the Italians
to change their course
Maybe the Italians weren't
listening, weren't watching,
no matter

Germans found a better
catch of the day-
French sailors in a navy ship
Riper victory for the picking

Torpedoes flew silently,
unseen metal,
Sailors took to the watch
on the ship's last boardwalk
Waving handkerchiefs at the
Italians, who watched
the chosen ones
in disbelief
across rough waters
Italians waving their last
goodbyes, and thank you,
French, for dying
in our places

We will remember you
in our search for clearly
priceless metal
and remember we once
nearly spoke
the same language