The Seven Santini Brothers Moving  Storage Brooklyn, NY

My poems were lost in moving
by Alan Walowitz

The Seven Santinis’ Moving and Storage,
but better known for their trapeze daring,
impaled the TV on the trellis.
The leather La Z Boy leaned out
what the truckers laughingly call “the runaway door,”
and hasn’t been back home since.
I trust the descendants of Bruno, “the Mauler,”
will ruin their backs on the faulty recline.
My poems were lost in moving.

I’ve declined the Santinis’ kind invitation
to enter a claim.
Dealing with artists like these
in any business way
is bound to be a frustrating business —
like an itch you can’t reach.

I might as well start from scratch.

IMAGE: Vintage postcard of Santini Brothers Moving & Storage truck.

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: A little history of this poem: There was a time in the mid-1970s when I was moving frequently, and I was frequently losing the scraps of papers on which I wrote my poems, or I was misplacing the journal I sometimes would write them in. I figured I’d join my moving experiences and my attempts at poem-making into one poem. I hated to blame the Seven Santinis; they never did me any harm. But it was too rich to resist their imagined double life as trapeze artists!

Alan Walowitz 7-2016

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Alan Walowitz has been published various places on the web and off. He’s a Contributing Editor at Verse-Virtual, an Online Community Journal of Poetry, and teaches at Manhattanville College in Purchase, New York, and St. John’s University in Queens, New York. His chapbook, Exactly Like Love, is available from Osedax Press.