Volume II Archive

Kate Preusser

Medieval, Renaissance and Baroque

Vanishing, Piazza Della Consolazione
(OR: The First Poem I Ever Wrote, then Un-Wrote, Then Re-Wrote)

At the Capitol’s base, off the busy street
A waiter with a weakness for travelers leans on the green metal chair,
Brings a silver tray with silver spoon, silver shell-shaped dish of unasked-for nuts,
All laid out as the dead at St. Ignazio, as if on bier:

My best stories are the ones in which I disappear.