Travelogue – Issue 2 | December 2008
Two Short Travelogues
by Mira Martin-Parker
Mehmett II
Sitting at Florian’s turning fifty in a bright yellow suit. A white wine or a cappuccino? A pigeon or a Japanese tourist? Beer in the afternoon is lovely with post cards and panini, but the stilettos are no good on stones. They slide over the powdered wigs, over the European gentlemen, with their tapered pants, their high collared shirts, and their Prada attachés. Stand in front of the tobacco shop, Mr. Sulyman, unwrap me a pack of fags. The antique African figures are hunched over and selling knock-off Dolce in the street. And no, my dear lady, you’re not a harlot. You’re a fine piece of work. Nevertheless, at any age, one needs comfortable sandals, for the line to get into San Marco is a long one and the Swiss are selling tribal rugs over on the Via Marzo. They’ll screw you over nicely, with rocket salad and pizza Margarita, with sopressa and aqua potabile. They say the glassmakers must study under their masters for fifteen years before they are allowed to filch the tourists—a glass pony for your little boy, a water taxi passed from father to son, and so on. The gondoliers may have webbed feet, but they speak English pretty darn well, when they fish you out of the wrong side of the canal.
About the author
Mira Martin-Parker writes, “Me. Me me me. Me me me me me me. Me. I I I me. My. My my my mine. All mine. Yes, it’s all very much mine.” We believe her. Further research reveals that Mira has earned a Master’s in Philosophy and recently, a Master’s in English at San Francisco State University.
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