the artigiano l eat her florentinian purse pective filled with —

why i luv the dirty sporca floors when the feast la festa is over-

u sweep clean with ur laughing head

reaching for the sweat uv the floor grabbing ur shaking breasts

lets eat a meal together- mangiamo ;

 ill slip u in sum pepper and cheese, sum salt, salute and a sneeze

god bless u, slip me a please, per piacere, slit me a sea

 uv vino swallowed wine and cream-

baking today a pie so u know come sento feel cosi caldo sentire warm for u;

 a grounded pie laughing like a rolling pumpkin in the dirt with

little plump princess fingers picking up her choice uv a coin- filled – jack- o -lantern

she runs shaking thru the streets uv this renaissance town to

announce the cling clang feast shes making with her feet

 on the ground cenna with the tuscan cooks and the eternal commedia dell’arte clowns:

tonight is a hang me upside down

like bat man and robin

in luv with the same florentinian hand made purse pective filled with-

kissing kind kids mangianno torta di mela

mommy made it

and i am not going to try to save it

this time

i am not going to try to fake it’

sto mangiando sta sera con te- for u- for the clock is licking

and my hand is ticking’

and the nerves dont got no reasons

they just do the things while they aint thinkin,

so lets keep sane  i keep saying we gotta

 rearrange  which side we flip or hide

no no  join me for a piece uv the pie

i made to stay calm tranquile to tell u i

simply like to be by

ur side when ur laughing

sweeping and cleaning the

dirty sporca floor with ur

sparkling

smile.

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