THE MERCHANTS OF VENICE
The man speaks some Italian, the woman
points and gestures, knows weight and
number and basta cosi, grazie, to indicate
she’s done. Sedici? The fishmonger
doubts whether she can eat so much.
Aperto opens the scallops, sensa
cochiglie gets them shell less. Piccolo
gets the right amount of Parmigiano
and burro, grande, mozzarella di bufala.
The lady butcher prompted by her up and down
fist pounds the slices of vitello even thinner.
Fragole? the pony tailed green grocer peeling
artichokes to get at their hearts asks when she
forgets to. Torniamo prossimo marzo lets
them know when they plan on coming back.
Siamo ancora qui is saved for when they do.
By the same author
Tolstoi Learned to Ride a Bike at an Age When Most of Us Cash in Chips by Annette Barnes & Stuart Friebert
There we were, watching the parade, while he climbed up