More Than Enough in Ragusa

(southern Sicily)

In Ragusa most afternoons
I sat outside a cafe locals favored.
Iron tables. I didn't feel at home
there but I surrendered
my touristic pose to become
a mere outsider. My presence
seemed to amuse the waitresses,
whom I tipped respectfully.

I pecked at salads, sipped
water and coffee, scribbled,
looked from shade out at hot light
hitting brightly painted walls
and old stone buildings. I
was a large man in a white
linen shirt, and ursine scarecrow.
So much more than enough
that place provided.


hans ostrom 2020

"She's Checking," by Hans Ostrom

in the Parkway Tavern, Tacoma,
i'd been drinking lemonade
for a half-hour or so.

a different waitress
came to the table. i
wondered if waitresses
and waiters like
to be called servers
now or not. i kept
this question to myself.

anyway, she said,
"what are you drinking?"
i said, "lemonade."
she said, "we don't have
lemonade." i said,
"i have been drinking
lemonade." she said,
"well, i'll check."



hans ostrom