Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Flavio Santi

Christ . . . what is the difference

Christ . . . what is the difference
between me and my blue Rex fridge
which cost four stipends and
ten overtime shifts?
That it has a washable surface?
That it does not cut its hair?
This night we stare at one another.
I had gone into the kitchen
to get some salted almonds.
My eye caught a glimpse
of a reflection: it was him . . .
We remain
silent one in front of the other
I munching almonds,
he producing ice
in his big electric blue head
that makes him think a lot.
I’m almost never home:
he’s always here, and he is beginning
to  become insufferable, he’s authoritarian
like my wife likes.
She rubs against him when I’m away
and the motor goes to the max.

Christ . . . what is the difference

Cristo . . . qual è la differenza
fra me e il mio frigo Rex blu
costato quattro stipendi e
dieci turni straordinari?
Che ha una superficie lavabile?
Che non si taglia i capelli?
Questa notte ci fissiamo.
Ero entrato in cucina
per prendere delle mandorle salate.
L’occhio è stato colpito
da un riflesso: era lui . . .
Ce ne stiamo
muti l’uno di fronte all’altro
io a sgranocchiare mandorle,
lui a produrre ghiaccio
nel suo testone blu elettrico
che lo fa pensare molto.
Non sono quasi mai a casa:
lui c’è sempre, comincia
a essere tremendo, lui è autoritario
come piace a mia moglie.
Lei gli si struscia quando non ci sono
e il motorino va a mille.
Close

Christ . . . what is the difference

Christ . . . what is the difference
between me and my blue Rex fridge
which cost four stipends and
ten overtime shifts?
That it has a washable surface?
That it does not cut its hair?
This night we stare at one another.
I had gone into the kitchen
to get some salted almonds.
My eye caught a glimpse
of a reflection: it was him . . .
We remain
silent one in front of the other
I munching almonds,
he producing ice
in his big electric blue head
that makes him think a lot.
I’m almost never home:
he’s always here, and he is beginning
to  become insufferable, he’s authoritarian
like my wife likes.
She rubs against him when I’m away
and the motor goes to the max.

Christ . . . what is the difference

Christ . . . what is the difference
between me and my blue Rex fridge
which cost four stipends and
ten overtime shifts?
That it has a washable surface?
That it does not cut its hair?
This night we stare at one another.
I had gone into the kitchen
to get some salted almonds.
My eye caught a glimpse
of a reflection: it was him . . .
We remain
silent one in front of the other
I munching almonds,
he producing ice
in his big electric blue head
that makes him think a lot.
I’m almost never home:
he’s always here, and he is beginning
to  become insufferable, he’s authoritarian
like my wife likes.
She rubs against him when I’m away
and the motor goes to the max.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Lira fonds
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère