Together in Tuscany
by John Olson
If the bank is closed I will blow out a wall and leave. I will have a lot of money. Nothing in life will be a problem anymore.
Except for life itself.
Afterward I might take a shower. This will give my fingers something to do.
I consider each line of writing to be a mind of its own swarming with crowbars.
Mallarmé plays the piano. My eyes open to a Hindu yogi walking slowly through the eye of a needle.
The river whispers of hypothesis.
Here comes the bus. It's going to Tuscany and is full of pronouns: he, she, me, you, it, them, us, we, and you again.
You you you.
Always you.
And me.
Together in Tuscany.
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Especially love the ending, and this: "I consider each line of writing to be a mind of its own swarming with crowbars." *
A bus full of pronouns is a subservive thought.
"The river whispers of hypothesis."
Excellent piece.
*