STORM SOUTH MILAN

Another mediocre is at the moment
 intellectualising the mediocre


 and Im praying for it to stop,
despite irritation,
 it goes on ,
 so  concentrating on pasts
I recall ,
before dawn
 winds that  began to pick up , 
picked from murmer to shouts,
fulfilling their words 
that they would
 come after
weather warnings. 
You don't need a weatherman
someone said at the time ,
wind whipping you as if it were truth ,
a true nor'easter,

  unlike  storms
 we had later.
 Out there in the storm
last-minute shoppers
 and last minute people
 heading home
 for no holidays.

It was dead shoppers,
 along dead streets,
 heading to working class oblivion 
heading towards a world
of no reward
but believing.
 I recall the feeling but nothing more.
 However the disturbance, 
winds  picked up late that night
 and went through the next  day .  
 Precipitation largely decided by elevation.
  frozen ground  low land , dead land.
Shoppers looking for the non existent ,
  amidst them 
I saw her
not 45 looking 30 
 all that stuff gone
and this time stoic resigned
and I was surprised to see him by her side,
she held his arm as if  asking forgiveness
as they walked for oblivion


he had no nowhere to go
her neither

I lived long enough
to see that. 
 The fight
 to stay on 
 her two legs
  moving never resting
  remembering.


Dies as in ancient mind
gone haywire,
 losing pride
losing control
losing mind.





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