at this ingestion

    this cappuccino reoccurrence

     in a not too well-lit bar with piano jazz from the ceiling

       a handful of patrons at papers

                                                        converse

           in sweet warm melted sugar air

 the every day Italian atmosphere of everywhere

     in this nowhere southern town

       going down in books as Putignano

          it looks as if it's our time

            to go somewhere else

we go on in Beijing          we go on
            fighting          we go on with newscasts
   a kind of fishing          we go on fishing
     for a fistful of dollars in this cowboy movie
        we go on gambling
       we go on a dice-throw in an alley
      we go on slapping down cards
                                   in a friendly game
             we go on losing and think
                our luck is about to change
  we go on in the cold face of Winter and wonder
           when the season turned and when we needed
                                       warmth
                    we go on working and cuss
                                                          when the alarm rings
                    each morning          we go on
                loving this or that person
        at the end of a week of a month of the end
                     of the year of our lives
         we go on counting birthdays
          blowing out candles          having cake
            and eating it too greedily
                      when no one is around
      we go on gossip and white lies
         and half-truths and hearsay and shit-shooting
        we go on tooting our horns and talking
                                      a meanstreak
           we go on eavesdropping and hobnobbing
             and flim-flamming the same scamming
                 crap that runneth over
            we go on four-leaf clover and
         lucky charms          we go on in harm's way
              and only say the ball's in your court
           we go on in sport and we go on
          so forth and so on
       we go on riding into the sunset and yet
          we go on getting our feet wet
         and jetting jet-set with a sure bet
           forget-me-not
                                we go on grey and white
           another religious right
               in the black black of night
           we go on blindly
             to the end of the rainbow