Our Man in Europe/Belize, No 112: "SCIACCA."
For my BARBER/grande fratello: Lenny Amedeo.
The song of Bernadette, thee song of your SISTA, or the song of your brother? Did he die a Traitor, Patriot or a STRANGER who was never THERE? The SONG of your family who hid FOOD, said, "Sure!" then saw your daughter be raped or the bambini, potentially starve?
In ENGLAND too we saw much deprivation, in WAR?
The Song of Bernadette, your Grandfather is "WORDS-LESS" coz he witnessed his Cowardice when PALERMO hit SCIACCA and stole all the food; first time, 2nd time, we hid our Rice/beans, we hid em in the Sciacca-tunnels. WE!? We kids looked innocent, looked desperate. In England, no dodging the bombing? Little food Amico!
The song of Bernadette. Or some Statue of Maria which U see us follow round on our Sciacca Streets? Maybe it got BETTER when "SEDOTTA E ABBANDONATO", the MOVIE prevailed and/or gave HOPE of a Sciacca-tomorrow, a MOVIE to give HISTORY an illusion? Either way, Women, Ladies, the Girls got-still a bad/infamous-cultural deal!...Who cries for a Donna!?
In WAR or PEACE the food we hide....is CONCEIT. Survival is everything. And when I go to your Barber-Shop I THINK...somehow, we are wounded.
c.davedelacroix.
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