Posted tagged ‘does an artist remember underwear’

Trip (Part of the Underside)–Italy ’65

May 30, 2014

Sketch2

Trip (Part of the Underside)–Italy ’65

We dried our underwear
up and down the Riviera.
It waved, not from the boot
of our car but the lip
of its sunroof,
the tourist’s multi-furcated flag (skirt-hanger), ironically
for the Sixties, one of surrender,
pretty much all
white cotton.

We lost a bra once, straps flapping free
on a mountain curve’s swerve–bigger things to think about–
trucks–
than even my mom’s
double b–

lacing our way by the sea
except those times my dad missed
the turn-off, the day then passing
in granite and abyss, gray-faced–

So, what kind of artist
does that make me?
Thinking of underwear?

Though, I also remember
greened-
metal ribs, the patinaed squibs
of deified beard,
the vast muscled heights
of the Sistine,
the surprise of
its many white triangles
(so very like
that underwear
that never quite dried
hotel nights–
we’d packed
pretty light–)

the dark reflections (agony)
of the Pieta,
the foot of some saint smoothed
to a sliver of soap–pilgrims–
the sunburnt eyelids of so many many
tiled roofs–

 

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Another draft poem of sorts–I say draft because it is so hot off the press–for the Real Toads prompt of Margaret Bednar to write a “sketch book poem.”  Margaret posts wonderful drawings by her daughter, Chelsea, who is now studying in Italy.  I include a sketch by Chelsea Bednar above.   (This has been edited since first posting.)