The Dogs of Bologna


The Urine soaked leaves italic culture
brought me to a girl crying over spilled gelato
distant yapping cani de Bologna
sneak through a Sangiovese echo
distinct tribulation a speaking vulture
sadness pusillanimous Limoncello

ancient the walls tell the story
terracotta arches structures of the wars
cured dead livestock a way to preserve
a third world country in high-reaching doors
red, white, green in all its glory
but the truth is made of scars
and the lies fusilli torment
anecdotes from splenetic whiskey bars