bonjourno

when they return
from Italy
they are smitten
with it's beauty
and culture.
suddenly they are
driving up
to the mall in
their mini vans
to buy paint the color
of golden
apples in sunlight,
gallons of
browns and muted
yellows, shades
of tuscany.
they find
in stacks the machine
painted pictures
of grapes
that linger on
the vine. chefs
in large white
hats. they
buy venetian plaster,
reading quickly
the easy three step
directions
and smear it on
their walls,
they buy scarfs
to throw across
their shoulders.
red wine by the box.
with coupons they pick
up a pasta machine,
and wide brimmed
hats for working
in their townhouse
yards.
they flip through
the photos
for anyone they see,
regaling a story,
each a priceless
tale, a work
of art, an Aesop's
fable. they show
you the one of
a peasant sweeping
dirt in a store
front, which is
your favorite.