THE WAY TO DO IT

The only Punch and Judy
shows I ever saw

were the ones I
never saw.

The only-just-missed
or the had-to-leave-before.

And always
in Italy.

Crossing a Venetian bridge
and the show is packed

up and ready to go
puppets loll

out a a large suit case
all heads and tangled strings

as it they were about to
escape and start a new life.

Perhaps in Verona
or Positano.

Judy almost makes it but
trips on her own strings.

Mr. Punch's voice lying forgotten
his swazzle hidden by a stone

And here in Napoli
we wait and wait

for the show to begin
but it doesn't and

only starts when we
are on the bus and on our way.

But in my own head
they play and

enact themselves
and I the only child

laughing madly
at the painted puppets

as if they are real
the show always open

in my long ago
mind.