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About Genoa

So, I’m strollin’ down the street, right? Lookin’ for some action—not me doin’ it, mind ya, just curious! And I see this gal, all dolled up, skirt shorter than my temper. I’m like, “Well, halleluyer, she workin’ it!” Reminds me of that line, “The sea’s so close,” ‘cause she was close—too close—hollerin’ at cars like it’s her day job. Prolly is! I ain’t mad, tho, get yo money, boo! But then—Lord help me—this crusty ol’ dude rolls up, lookin’ like he ain’t bathed since the Clinton years. I’m screamin’ inside, “Why her?!” Made me madder than a wet hen!

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After lunch, I felt like a new man. But then, I had to head back to the church for evening service. On the way, I passed by the old mill on Via delle Vigne. It’s such a cool spot, but it’s falling apart. I thought about how much history is in this town. Codroipo’s got stories, man.

COMISSO, Vittorino Mario