Poem
Flavio Santi
Christ . . . what is the difference
Christ . . . what is the differencebetween me and my blue Rex fridge
which cost four stipends and
ten overtime shifts?
That it has a washable surface?
That it does not cut its hair?
This night we stare at one another.
I had gone into the kitchen
to get some salted almonds.
My eye caught a glimpse
of a reflection: it was him . . .
We remain
silent one in front of the other
I munching almonds,
he producing ice
in his big electric blue head
that makes him think a lot.
I’m almost never home:
he’s always here, and he is beginning
to become insufferable, he’s authoritarian
like my wife likes.
She rubs against him when I’m away
and the motor goes to the max.
© Translation: 2004, Gabriele Poole
Christ . . . what is the difference
Cristo . . . qual è la differenza
fra me e il mio frigo Rex blu
costato quattro stipendi e
dieci turni straordinari?
Che ha una superficie lavabile?
Che non si taglia i capelli?
Questa notte ci fissiamo.
Ero entrato in cucina
per prendere delle mandorle salate.
L’occhio è stato colpito
da un riflesso: era lui . . .
Ce ne stiamo
muti l’uno di fronte all’altro
io a sgranocchiare mandorle,
lui a produrre ghiaccio
nel suo testone blu elettrico
che lo fa pensare molto.
Non sono quasi mai a casa:
lui c’è sempre, comincia
a essere tremendo, lui è autoritario
come piace a mia moglie.
Lei gli si struscia quando non ci sono
e il motorino va a mille.
fra me e il mio frigo Rex blu
costato quattro stipendi e
dieci turni straordinari?
Che ha una superficie lavabile?
Che non si taglia i capelli?
Questa notte ci fissiamo.
Ero entrato in cucina
per prendere delle mandorle salate.
L’occhio è stato colpito
da un riflesso: era lui . . .
Ce ne stiamo
muti l’uno di fronte all’altro
io a sgranocchiare mandorle,
lui a produrre ghiaccio
nel suo testone blu elettrico
che lo fa pensare molto.
Non sono quasi mai a casa:
lui c’è sempre, comincia
a essere tremendo, lui è autoritario
come piace a mia moglie.
Lei gli si struscia quando non ci sono
e il motorino va a mille.
© 2004, Flavio Santi
Poems
Poems of Flavio Santi
Close
Christ . . . what is the difference
Christ . . . what is the differencebetween me and my blue Rex fridge
which cost four stipends and
ten overtime shifts?
That it has a washable surface?
That it does not cut its hair?
This night we stare at one another.
I had gone into the kitchen
to get some salted almonds.
My eye caught a glimpse
of a reflection: it was him . . .
We remain
silent one in front of the other
I munching almonds,
he producing ice
in his big electric blue head
that makes him think a lot.
I’m almost never home:
he’s always here, and he is beginning
to become insufferable, he’s authoritarian
like my wife likes.
She rubs against him when I’m away
and the motor goes to the max.
© 2004, Gabriele Poole
Christ . . . what is the difference
Christ . . . what is the differencebetween me and my blue Rex fridge
which cost four stipends and
ten overtime shifts?
That it has a washable surface?
That it does not cut its hair?
This night we stare at one another.
I had gone into the kitchen
to get some salted almonds.
My eye caught a glimpse
of a reflection: it was him . . .
We remain
silent one in front of the other
I munching almonds,
he producing ice
in his big electric blue head
that makes him think a lot.
I’m almost never home:
he’s always here, and he is beginning
to become insufferable, he’s authoritarian
like my wife likes.
She rubs against him when I’m away
and the motor goes to the max.
© 2004, Gabriele Poole
Sponsors
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère