escape
i sent a package to a friend in italy recently.
this friend, frankie (aka francesco pollonara), came to the states to study for his italian masters degree and to see the world as we say. he was here (in detroit - a very far cry from northeast italy for sure) for six months. during one of the 182 nights he spent on our continent, we snuck out of my house b/c two friends were arguing, sweaty and boring facts flying around the room. we made snow angels in my backyard in the virgin white while marco's voice rose and fell "the roman empire extinguished itself due to..." "this country is built on a principle unlike any other principle on the planet...", and our boots made waffled tracks down my street to the swings where second graders sit and scream from in the weekday afternoons.
and when i last saw frankie, in italy, in the mountains, we were hours from anything. he visited me in my summer exile and we walked in the dusk while fireflies hovered fat and bright on the periphery of our road. the next day we walked in the sun while blue-green and green-blue pines swayed in the valleys below us. we sat breathing. and he said lies are essential. he said truths are essential. and i diagreed and agreed. regarding lovers; regarding bosses; regarding friends and parenti (family).
when i said what i said, on that bench in abruzzo, i meant every word. and now, four months later, i don't know if i agree at all with my-then-self. what the hell happens when you lift the veil? maybe you just pull another one out of your sleeve and tack it up.
and frankie, he's been back in northeast italy - a very far cry from southeast michigan for sure) for way more than a year now.
so the package. a pewabic tile with the skyline of detroit. bluish. "if italy cannot come to detroit then detroit should come to italy," said my message. he put it on his desk.
"you are correct," his reply said. "and you are correct, stacy.... whatever our souls are made of, they are the same."
he wants to come back the u.s. to find work, to find a different life.
and i want to go back to italy.
everyone's looking for something beautiful, i guess.
this friend, frankie (aka francesco pollonara), came to the states to study for his italian masters degree and to see the world as we say. he was here (in detroit - a very far cry from northeast italy for sure) for six months. during one of the 182 nights he spent on our continent, we snuck out of my house b/c two friends were arguing, sweaty and boring facts flying around the room. we made snow angels in my backyard in the virgin white while marco's voice rose and fell "the roman empire extinguished itself due to..." "this country is built on a principle unlike any other principle on the planet...", and our boots made waffled tracks down my street to the swings where second graders sit and scream from in the weekday afternoons.
and when i last saw frankie, in italy, in the mountains, we were hours from anything. he visited me in my summer exile and we walked in the dusk while fireflies hovered fat and bright on the periphery of our road. the next day we walked in the sun while blue-green and green-blue pines swayed in the valleys below us. we sat breathing. and he said lies are essential. he said truths are essential. and i diagreed and agreed. regarding lovers; regarding bosses; regarding friends and parenti (family).
when i said what i said, on that bench in abruzzo, i meant every word. and now, four months later, i don't know if i agree at all with my-then-self. what the hell happens when you lift the veil? maybe you just pull another one out of your sleeve and tack it up.
and frankie, he's been back in northeast italy - a very far cry from southeast michigan for sure) for way more than a year now.
so the package. a pewabic tile with the skyline of detroit. bluish. "if italy cannot come to detroit then detroit should come to italy," said my message. he put it on his desk.
"you are correct," his reply said. "and you are correct, stacy.... whatever our souls are made of, they are the same."
he wants to come back the u.s. to find work, to find a different life.
and i want to go back to italy.
everyone's looking for something beautiful, i guess.
posted by stacy muszynski at 7:20 AM
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