What are you bragging about, Cosa Nostra?
If Don Victor is more real, welding
his shadow
on the sidewalk.
Irma's mates
fill the tank
that fights on Wednesdays.
Cups filled,
to the brim,
with hope:
the dining room.
Angel, on credit?
if there isn't enough
for him either bread
or forgiveness.
His notebook screams
help.
Domingo
carries his two milks.
"Clin clin"
the midday bells
ring on his bike.
Gangsters
are like that
they face the day
with a clean face,
they eat problems for breakfast.
You just ate Cowboy's!
How could you think of it, Benito?
And it's not to paint misery,
it's to tell the tale.
Here, the mafia
wears an apron
and keeps silent
out of modesty, not fear.
This is what's not on Netflix, Benito.
This is
the real
Cosa Nostra.
-
Author:
Damaso (
Offline) - Published: May 13th, 2025 16:04
- Comment from author about the poem: How could you think of it, Benito?
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 19
- Users favorite of this poem: Poetic Licence, Tristan Robert Lange
Offline)
Comments2
A most interesting chain of thoughts and we all have such chains and then have to ask what are you thinking. Lovely
I like to give food for thought. It's always the beginning of something, a reflection on the values held by some old-fashioned people. Greetings.
Food for thought, my friend. Excellent poem. 🌹👏
How are you, my friend? Glad you stopped by to say hello. Sorry for the usual rambling, that's just my manners. Greetings.
Doing well, minus pulling my back out miserably. Slowly recovering. I hope all is well with you. Thank you for checking in!
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.