roma.

here it is again, morphed into its winter coat of grey and full with fluffy jacketed folk, offering to me:
the familiarity of certain faces, and of streets and rooms of houses and the smell of coffee and cigarettes, and of good-o pastries in the window and then in my belly, and then of course the tackiness of the media world that infiltrates homes and walls and minds, naked women smiling on billboards, politlically extreme scrawlings on every corner, and then the soft roman drawl from the guy at the newstand, the smile-wink-what can i get for you princess from the cute grocery store attendant, the sound of the metro below, the dance music from the immigrant's stereo on the side o' the road.
all this, for now.
and its a little much on the heart, this sudden transition.
its time, i think, for good (but) cheap red at the supermarket, and thick conversations.