I ran home from night school
Where I ate pencils for hours
To lock my door and watch Carmela
I broke into a sweat on my neck
Slobbered like an ogre to pass
My driver’s test
And I never graduated,
Never went naked in a graduate robe
With the toenails she painted pink
Instead I rode
my bicycles in many Italian races
Only to watch Carmela give her face
To a thousand other faces
Vulgarities are red in a mouth—the raised red glass
A kiss sealed together with rubber
A kiss from a stranger
will get a raise
While you wait for the love you can light with matches
Love you can’t know from praise.
And I wait for another race to put me down
Not ever knowing the first one’s fate
And I race Carmela in my mind
And carry her cross from time to time
No matter how many years she’s late.
–begun 1991, finished 2021
Beauty is Imperfection 