Last Wednesday on the Piazza
Near San Marco's trecento Duomo
I observed una grassa ragazza
With a thin middle Western uomo.
He was swatting a piccola mosca,
She was eating a chocolate gelato,
While an orchestra played (from La Tosca)
A flat violin obbligato.

They stared at a dusty piccione,
They spoke not a single parola,
She ordered some Te con Limone
He ordered an iced Coca Cola.
And while the tramanto del sole
Set fire to the Grande Canale
She scribbled haphazard parole
On glazed cartoline postale.