Basta con le chiacchere: Artificial

Basta con le chiacchere Part 3: Artificial

1.

We entered the apartment,
where the centerpiece caught my attention,
Stretched across the living-room wall,

in between a chaos, 

the unbreakable one-eyed gaze of Christ,
Surrounded by the torn flags and ocher patches,
Bloated with umber spots and smeared 

in the bluest blotched-blue sunshine
And there, there above it all,
Ah!—Basta con le chiacchere!

2.

He stared for so long at all the colors
That he couldn’t see them anymore, 

Not via the simpler gestures of just looking  
And so he twisted his neck instead, almost to snapping
and bent over into himself, for that upside-down vista 

—its there the colors shine again, its there he reconnects with the reconnecting!

—”Do you see them,” he says
The both of us bent sideways, staring hard, 

cross-eyed for clearer vision,
“there, there they are!   How do they look from this perspective?
Its all about fresh beginnings, with everything in this life”.

I agreed.  We toasted to fresh beginnings, 
and I convinced myself free of old colors

—fresh beginnings, from traveling to poetry to painting , 

from sagging rooftop angles to sad-blue sidewalk angels—

—“new beginnings and keeping your body happy,” he declared,
grabbing for his bag of baby carrots and a carton of soy milk.
 
And almost forgetting again to be a friend he turned to me 
and said, “yeah, so, what else is new with you…”, 
and I thought;  Ah!  —Basta con le chiacchere!

Not the solution

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