Academic journal article Hecate

Slipping into Slow

Academic journal article Hecate

Slipping into Slow

Article excerpt

Sometimes it happens

in a glance returned to tumbled

roof tiles earlier passed over, rain streaks

in an ochre-washed wall, or the snug

look of a paint box cushioned

among socks in the unpacking of a case

other times in the placing of feet

into cobblestone indents in search of yesterday's

coffee bar where men stood sipping before the street

filled with Vespas, and Charlie the mutt lolled

for his lamb chop beside his ageing mistress

just out of hospital for her left knee

but once slipped into it's everywhere

in the woman's homage at the dell'Arte Moderna

slowing past the Cy Twombly, in the man's pause

tilting against light to decipher marks in a Franco Angeli,

and while the next day you regret not saying Hi

at the tramstop, there perhaps was no need, for they too

possibly felt the kinship of the beat. The kid

in Marsala sits cross-legged by the Chiesa Mardi, where

the Nine O'clock has just begun, and across the old marble

laneway her mum with identical begging plate

and aquiline Arab looks chats with a woman departing

lauds, like they've known each other for years, and

minutes are not a problem, the kid in the meanwhile

getting on with the job, plenty of stragglers

still headed in, nor are the grownups fussed

by the modest coin when eventually the woman

stoops to mum's plate, it being time to tackle

the rest of the morning's business. …

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