A hooked fish struggling furiously to survive
seemingly minor character having suddenly died
jetty foam
as we prepare to set a table before ourselves in the presence of our enemies
you make the mistake of looking back,
lost to the underworld forever in the vast Pisces aquarium of dream life.
I miss the avid conversations
and take the vaporetto to Piazza San Marco
pigeons then salute
the overfed Pharoah lucky to remember the prophesy
and to be in treatment with the first Jewish analyst who didn't solve the problem
but gave him tools
one thing he learned was to save something for a rainy day.
Remember the chocolate vanilla swirl of the custard at Carvel on Route 27?
Beckoning cone from the Candy Kitchen
Yardley & Pino.
Remember the time you complained vociferously about the lack of connection
when the person behind the counter looked at you dumbly,
when you asked if there was gluten-free custard
snagging the prepacked container of sherbert
slimy, escaping right through your fingers
you need a net
you think, Catch this day before it's lost forever, as you spring out of the gate to buy toilet paper, the bad brand
being a starving calf, though the fatted calf clogs the drain but therapy is not supposed to answer questions about
toilet paper
you have stopped trying to explain that since no one is interested in listening
they are furiously chattering (like birds at sunrise) to avoid their own thoughts
it's 6:21,
torrents yesterday, today, tomorrow windy,
we see the same couple at John Papas, we are jealous
they are talking to someone else instead of us.
Francis Levy, a Wainscott resident, is the author of the short-story collection "The Kafka Studies Department" and the novels "Erotomania," "Seven Days in Rio," "Tombstone," and "The Wormhole Society." His poems have appeared in Exquisite Corpse, Evergreen, The New York Times's "Metropolitan Diary," and Articoli Liberi. He recently completed a collection of poetry, "The Unavoidable Imminence of the Inexplicable."