Table of |
A friend sends me a text meant for his wife,
"There will be dinner and kisses."
Aphrodite! Venus! Rati!
Where are you?
I lean on the concrete wall
A man appears and kisses me on the lips
I wear love beads with a pink crystal heart
Rate grey-haired men in little boxes
One gives me a book to improve my business
Another to find inner peace
The man in the moon
Winks at me, blows me kisses
Lack of a Chair
In my old apartment
never a comfortable place to sit
a brown futon, two red metal chairs
and a step stool.
When I moved to Astoria
for one hundred dollars
I bought a maroon Carlyle sofa
an orange velvet lazy boy
and a framed drawing of a chair.
Primitive 1 by ©Aldo Vigliarolo
What Kind of Woman Abandons a Diamond Ring?
My grandmother threatened,
“Don’t crack your knuckles,
they’ll get big and I won’t leave you my diamond ring.”
I cracked my knuckles.
Forty years later, I received the two-carat solitaire.
I wore it to a wedding and to a bar mitzvah.
No one said a word.
Not “Are you engaged?”
Or “Where’d you get that rock?”
I couldn’t wear the ring.
It was too large, my hands too small
Was not the time to sell or give it away.
So I placed it in a safe deposit box.
I just left it.
Often wondered - was it still there?
A year later, I made the journey.
The attendant escorted me to the vault.
Turned the keys
Handed me the strongbox.
Once in the chamber, I opened the steel container.
Untangled the rubber band from the dingy box.
Removed the layer of white cotton.
There it was
The sparkling multi-faceted stone.
I slid the ring over my knuckle
Studied it from every angle
Placed the shiny carbon confection back in the box
And returned it to the attendant.