at the first trace of blue I wandered the unpaths, finding myself thoroughly
lost in a gray spritz of rain, the cyan-stuccoed, faded lines of shopkeep homes
shut before dawn, before the tourists shuffled off bullet trains da Firenze
with their Carnival masks & breadcrumbs for the birds, made for San Marco’s
to schedule afternoon gondola rides or shop along the Rialto for glass,
but in the morning twilight I, with my American splash, shoes half-covered in
lagoon-tide, had nowhere to turn as the via dissolved abruptly into canal, & so
listened to the soft-chop lapping the moors & gazed across at three
kids washing clothes, who wondered at my being there, whether I’d fall into the brack.
Alex Lundy currently lives in Nashville, Tennessee, where he works with formerly incarcerated individuals seeking employment. His work has appeared in the X-peri Vessel and in Minnesota State University Moorhead’s Red Weather journal. He can be found on Instagram @lundyalex.