professor eliot endeavored to explain the point of a poem isn't necessarily to make a point, but to convey a sense of place or time or being.

~

i spent the weekend in assisi

visiting friends.

assisi is a small country 

nestled between the borders

of north dakota, minnesota, and canada, 

a tri-corner area, you might say.

or you might not.

some think of it as bleak — the landscape,

the climate, the culture.

i find it pleasant, as i don't care

much about landscape,

i'm happy wherever i find myself,

and the weather, bah, throw another log

of the fire or turn up the a.c., but let's 

change the subject. the culture, it is minimal,

but the craic is good.

everything is free in assisi, everything —

the gin, the lipstick,

the golf tees, the automobiles, you get the idea.

one might think

this would lead to gluttony and excess (or one might not).

nay. centuries of this economic plan

led, long ago, to satiation. owning

for the sake of owning is a concept so tired

that no one considers it.

those that desire a lamborghini lp 750-4 superveloce

have one. those who prefer a ford f-150

have one. those who like a three-speed schwinn, have one.

but only one.

the weekend was fun. we talked for hours

and watched episodes of inside amy schumer, 

and some choice bits of key & peele. 

we ate way too much, and drank moderately too much.

being used to the city, as i am,

i was struck by the absence of homelessness,

but it makes sense.

want is not an issue, and homes are free, so it all works out.

it was not especially hot 

for this time of year, so we worked in the garden

during the day. gardens and fresh produce

are popular there, as everywhere, and the exercise felt good

after indulgent dinners (fish tacos and freshly made

guacamole friday night, out for dinner saturday night

to chicken betty's, a local secret, the location

of which i will not reveal), for margaritas, fried chicken,

and two sides. assisi is not cosmopolitan,

simple fare is the norm, though not the rule. there is

a funny little dive

that puts on a wicked-good escargot and bouillabaisse,

if you like that sort of thing, which i do. 

naturally the fourth of july 

means little in assisi, but some

enjoy a spectacle, so there was a modest showing

at one of the city parks. i preferred watching the fireflies

and kids with sparklers.

~

that was my weekend, now it's back to work,

back to life as i know it. 

some would say back to reality. i would say it's a matter of perspective.

~

surely i should say something

in summation.

what have i written

but an account of my weekend? nothing, 

really, more than a list,

but it was a good weekend

with good friends.

nothing else comes to mind.

if you really want to know

where chicken betty's is, message me.

that's it, a poem with no point, and a coda

which falls 

one line shy of a sonnet.

~

'the craic is good'

lyric by van morrison, coney island