Rome, In Between Places
Yes, rambling in your city, I can say “ciao”,
“buongiorno” with a bad accent, bad spelling.
Your masterpiece of a tongue
Is a mystery to me.
The words, labyrinthine,
Like your streets
A maze.
I lose myself in them:
Red coat seeing the dirty, roaring red of your sky.
All I know is that I am inauthentic
Overwhelmed, I sit in all the wrong places:
“Grazie”: deliberate, thought.
I sit in all the wrong places.
How can I find you?
These words, written, are the only I speak to you.
And how could you know these foreign marks, combinations, sounds?
Yes, rambling in your city, I can say “ciao”,
“buongiorno” with a bad accent, bad spelling.
Your masterpiece of a tongue
Is a mystery to me.
A map of words, worlds.
I am going in circles.
Exploring the guide-books
Not the city.
How can I find you when I only know how not to?
Yes, rambling in your city, I can say “ciao”,
“buongiorno” with a bad accent, bad spelling.
Your masterpiece of a tongue
Is a mystery to me.
The words, labyrinthine,
Like your streets
A maze.
I lose myself in them:
Red coat seeing the dirty, roaring red of your sky.
All I know is that I am inauthentic
Overwhelmed, I sit in all the wrong places:
“Grazie”: deliberate, thought.
I sit in all the wrong places.
How can I find you?
These words, written, are the only I speak to you.
And how could you know these foreign marks, combinations, sounds?
Yes, rambling in your city, I can say “ciao”,
“buongiorno” with a bad accent, bad spelling.
Your masterpiece of a tongue
Is a mystery to me.
A map of words, worlds.
I am going in circles.
Exploring the guide-books
Not the city.
How can I find you when I only know how not to?