Compared to Home, what is Rome but
Many imposter stones, who flaunt paunches,
And chiseled jaws, and abs thick cut
But never earned. The fountain launches
Water "non potabile" from a fishy gut,
Or seems to. Yet the endless craft
Is effortless, since the secret is the pressure
Merely directed. I admit I laughed
When I saw the Fountain Naiads who lure
Water horses and lizards into their fray,
For each is doused, but the one for sure
Is so angled that she must need a bidet.
Compared to you, Rome can only boast
Of satisfaction in her sweet "pasticcerie"
And hot coffee, when your French toast
Is bettered with bacon. Italian cheerie
Exists in the smiles and sweet abuse
Of the street vendor, who starves his family
To make you an offer you can't refuse.
Just today I bought a scarf of cashmere
Which came from India. And although
The tag said China, I have no fear
That he'd sell me Nylon for twenty-two euro.
What is Rome when compared with thee,
But arches which soar and crack and fall
Never to be moved nor fixed. You can see
The lazy layering in the Forum floor and wall.
Caesar makes a triumph below his arch
While trodding flesh arches on trash. And
The river never ceases her acid march,
Hoping to carry away less from that land.