Midday meander, mapless
alleycrossing;
th’clatter of the heat
sears th’shade
in the shadow of the gorge-esque,
gorgeous buildings,
balconifically barred!
In the alcoves,
unassuming,
fades Maria…
‘Midst the sun-burnt blocks
blaze orange-walls,
the pink of their compan’yuns calling
Ciao! across the parrot-keeping palms
that shower stuffy-spots of sunless street.
Slippysleek, the paving undulates,
unused by most
(they take the road);
Permesso! bluntly blaring
blasts
from the bells ‘n the horns
whizzweaving by
belligerently
as they cruise through crowds
who reshape to them like water!
A lame horse limps
in service to the tourist sector.
Four verses
of a song of mainlanders
who,
underneath the statues,
wonder –
this circle of a crossroads
can’t contain
the currents of the streets
that feed it!
Cracks; craters;
little landslides –
perilous
the paving of Palermo,
thus the scooters ‘n the mopeds
move more
free of care:
there’s a one with a man
sat sitting on the seat
as his daughter
stands upon the space in front,
hoops gleamly hanging from her ears!
Litter littered all about,
languidly lolling
at the passage
of tobacco wind
which,
wandering the city on a schedule,
works to tell you
that you could be cooler.
See a mountain
down the avenue,
peaked by a waterslide –
a monstrous cruise ship
at the harbour.
Coffee cups of shot-sized,
white ceramic
klatterklink their saucers;
sweet-doughed delicacies,
decorative,
dress their plates
with crumbs ‘n flakes a-fallen.
Cafeterialists converse,
crafting melody.
The un-housed,
hounded by the heat,
ne’erless
request from where they
stake their claim.
Th’heat’s boosted
by our all-surrounding
city heights ‘n breadths ‘n depths!
A pigeon pair
peck at the pastry flakes;
cats
lean ‘n mean
myow menacingly
from their spread of scraps
spread loosely.
Layered settlement
of humankind;
habitat-home
to Homo metrosapialis –
gross-grotty,
garish-grand,
‘n great maze-mass
where we create ‘n cluster!
Smelly bin-smell
[Delicacies decorative
‘dorn the air
with their sav’ry-sweet!]
sun-worsened,
swells,
surging at the corner –
carry on
following cigarette stubs…
Pockets
of post-apocalypse
fence the city.
Rearing earthen,
plate-pushed hills
of mountaineity rockrise
in moments measured
geologic’ly
to wall us ‘bout.
The expanse
of the blue, blue sea
remakes the sky
infinitely.
Meandering
maplessly,
sing Palermo!
william altoft 