By Luciano Prisco
On the third day it became a crisis
as they say in Italian THE HOUSE MAY HIDE BUT IT DOES NOT STEAL
but something had stolen them
I had turned the studio upside down
scraped through all the leaves
detritus
times over
I had looked everywhere possible in the house
I had looked under, behind all the furniture
in every drawer and cupboard
I had checked the fridge and in the wood stove
NOTHING
GONE
Time and space, it seemed, had swallowed them up
On the third day it became a crisis
as they say in Italian THE HOUSE MAY HIDE BUT IT DOES NOT STEAL
but something had stolen them
I had turned the studio upside down
scraped through all the leaves
detritus
times over
I had looked everywhere possible in the house
I had looked under, behind all the furniture
in every drawer and cupboard
I had checked the fridge and in the wood stove
NOTHING
GONE
Time and space, it seemed, had swallowed them up
I arranged for an appointment for replacement
It was not only the inconvenience and the blow to one's vanity
but also the expensive cost
That final morning
with a sense of inevitability hanging like a cloud over me
I gave it one more try
After half an hour it all seemed futile
What was it than that drew me to that last act of desperation
in the most unlikely place
under a blue car cover
pressed tightly in the most remote spot of my studio?
Impossible, it's impossible,
my mind said on the third day,
a biblical number, number 3,
under a sky blue cover they were to be discovered
shrouded by a shrine of wood shavings
tin foil
bits of anointed cardboard and string
Smack in the centre of an altar
arranged by this most creative of rodents
GLEAMING
MY DENTURES
ALLOY OF COBALT AND CHROMIUM
I could smile at the world again
THE HOUSE MAY HIDE AND NOT STEAL …TELL THAT TO THE RAT!
It was not only the inconvenience and the blow to one's vanity
but also the expensive cost
That final morning
with a sense of inevitability hanging like a cloud over me
I gave it one more try
After half an hour it all seemed futile
What was it than that drew me to that last act of desperation
in the most unlikely place
under a blue car cover
pressed tightly in the most remote spot of my studio?
Impossible, it's impossible,
my mind said on the third day,
a biblical number, number 3,
under a sky blue cover they were to be discovered
shrouded by a shrine of wood shavings
tin foil
bits of anointed cardboard and string
Smack in the centre of an altar
arranged by this most creative of rodents
GLEAMING
MY DENTURES
ALLOY OF COBALT AND CHROMIUM
I could smile at the world again
THE HOUSE MAY HIDE AND NOT STEAL …TELL THAT TO THE RAT!
Cartoon by Natasha Williams-Novak