Napoli

 It’s a refrain they sing in Naples

Because Our Thing has burnt down the supermarket.

Debts are piling up, no holiday this year,

This year meanders out of luck on the lotto, the horses.

Jobs on construction come at a pinch

And the money in your pocket won’t stop the traffic.

Every conversation is one you’ve had before, sunshine, you know them.

While the refrain itself goes thus (just a trio of strings):

It’s about coffee,

A small cup of coffee and a cigarette.

For a few lira that’s your consolation.

You can sit at the café window and watch the disrespect,

The hydra of Naples swelling in humidity

And only you and the barman get the joke.