(il treno por Siracusa) (Sicilia 13)

the more bottles of water I find in markets
the less sweat I generate from sun overexposure
the bread I find insulting to my idea prior of what tasted good
the indigos and blues and turquoises that I make friends with
the streets I walk down and cherish
the shoes I worship in shop windows
the water in the shower,
welcome tears from the faucet
are all gaining ground for me
to find wisdom.

the less I force out English in a non-colonial world
the simpler I challenge myself to find diversions
the transport methods that grow familiar
the friends of friends who become friends
the ideas I master in rhetorical correctness
the new spaces I find and do not judge
the anger at anything that melts like ice caps
are all peeling away this mask
of ignorance to find wisdom.