The wicker chair holds the door back –
it might close from the wind made by the fan
The whirr of the fan fills the room
but there are occasional scrapes
and steps from below
where the cleaning man is doing his job
Not much else is happening today –
I’m glad, it goes with my almost immobile
stupor not long after breakfast out
at C’era una volta il caffè,
where they were playing The Boss’
mellow I’m on fire
Yes, that’s the kind of fire I’m on
in this torpid Roman morning heat
– Johannes Beilharz (© 2013)
Note
Another poem originally published in 2013 by the long defunct Writers Asylum.
beilharz 