The City Stirs

image from fineartsamerica.com

The City Stirs

“Nature is a petrified magic city.”--Novalis

Sirens awaken me alltissmo & blaring;

perhaps     a meat wagon,   the police,

              or a firetruck--          charging

toward some calamity, deliberate and

              bellicoso.

A canto of pigeons coo on the edge of

the roof, all dolce & delicato--quite the

contrast to my Mickey Mouse alarm

clock blasting its brassy bell aria. I silence

it with a swift colpugno.

              Foghorns in the harbor

              bleat abafando in the

              distance. My tongue tastes metallic as

                             I burp pepperoni pizza, greasy

                             and abbandono.

               Some truck with twin

               stacks bellows & spews

               as it labors through its

                              crunching chorus of gears, before

                              fading con calando.

As I brew coffee,

     needing to consume

         caffeine devoto, I tap

            my fingers to the onerous

                  barbaro beat of a twin jackhammer

                       duet, busily reducing concrete to a

                          acciaccato dust pudding.

Mere blocks from the office, I move adante through

the´cacophony of the crowds crescendo, untouched,

nearly invisible, finding their frowns & epithets capricco,

the white noise within me fully abandono, but only in

the security of the elevator does my heartbeat return

to abattuta.

                          The city awakens

                           con allegrezza, as I

                           grasp joy in fermata.

Glenn Buttkus

Posted over at dVerse Poets Pub MTB