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About Rome

Me, I think, “What ruin everything?” like in movie. Whore ruin men, or men ruin whore? Both, maybe. She dance, she tease, she cry alone later. I see her once, rain pourin, she smokin cigarette—look like ghost. “The world is silent,” film say. Her world silent too, nobody hear her.

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So, I’m wanderin’ around, tryin’ to salvage my day. I head over to Via XX Settembre. There’s this little shop I love. They sell the best handmade pasta. I walk in, and the smell hits me like a freight train. I’m in heaven! I grab some orecchiette and start chattin’ with the owner, an old lady named Nonna Rosa. She’s a gem! She tells me stories about Isernia during the war. I could listen to her for hours.

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