Alberto Moravia never spoke about
his woman of Rome
She is the black mistress of champagne
rustic summertime cherries stained on linen
Frank Sinatra under her skin
She walks the cobblestone streets
of Roman nights alone
She sings the crescendo of her jazz blues
into magnetic syndrome
Sarah Vaughan on a sleepless night
Dinah Washington at twilight
She skirts her venom through the air
lifting her Persephone antics and torture
from her shrivelled womb to celestial woe
past bombardments of the colossal Coliseum
and its glow
this putana does not know gloom
She walks the Appian Way as a light-hearted heathen
She taints the streets of Rome in pagan rift
alone at night
Published on Writing Beyond History. An Anthology of Prose and Poetry, Montreal, Cusmano, 2006
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