Tag Archives: Rome

In Rome

I swim like a fish

through vowels bubbling

in the fountains of Villa Borghese.

My tongue grows consonants,

coins in Neptune’s bath, my lips

become fins in the Trevi . . .

–Excerpt from “In Rome” in Edges by Donna Pucciani (Purple Flag, Chicago, 2016). First published in PoetryMagazine.com.

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Lines to Gregory Corso

Protestant Cemetery, Rome

. . . Let the Tiber remind me of all your quirky songs

shrouded in cigarette smoke,

the odd fragmented verses

rendered stoned and eloquent

from the sofas of friends.

–excerpt from “Lines to Gregory Corso” in A Light Dusting of Breath by Donna Pucciani (Purple Flag Press, 2014). First published in PoetryMagazine.com.

At the Protestant Cemetery

. . . Corso curls up near Shelley,

with Keats a neighbor.

They lie in wait for lightning to bloom

on a cloud, for thunder to shake

the limpid ivy, the last purple

wisterias glowing incandescent

like odd fireflies.

–excerpt from “At the Protestant Cemetery” in A Light Dusting of Breath by Donna Pucciani (virtual artists collective/purple flag, 2015). First published in Paterson Literary Review and Feile Festa.

Lines to Gregory Corso

Protestant Cemetery, Rome

. . . Let the Tiber remind me

of all your quirky songs

shrouded in cigarette smoke,

the odd fragmented verses

rendered stoned and eloquent

from the sofas of friends.

–excerpt from “Lines to Gregory Corso” in A Light Dusting of Breath by Donna Pucciani (virtual artists collective/purple flag, 2015). First published in PoetryMagazine.com.

Outside Rome

life limps along

without crowds and Michelangelo.

Graffiti is the conversation here,

stray dogs, trams, markets

with Moroccan leather and shoes

made in China.

–excerpt from “Outside Rome” in A Light Dusting of Breath by Donna Pucciani (virtual artists collective/purple flag, 2015). First published in PoetryMagazine.com