Gypsies Like Us

Things like that were never meant for Gypsies like us
said mom.
As soon as I was aware of my poverty, I longed for finer things.
I read voraciously from the time I was one—
anything my little hands could get a hold of
menus,
old instructions on the operation of a Sony VCR,
and my favorites
discarded books
and
magazines
from the library.
Bon Appétit! Cucina Italiana!
I drooled over glossy gourmet meals,
I imagined dining on homemade gnocchi
in a savory tomato cream sauce
While I sit, sipping a frothy cappuccino
in a lively Roman piazza
in an outdoor cafe, people watching
There! An artist and easel…
Painting the Pantheon
Under Roman skies
Warmth of the caffeinated cup of heaven
in my hands
Taste the pancetta
in a bite of sauce--divine.

Brother bangs
on the bathroom door
Get out now!
Because he had to go
Number two.
"Oh shut up, Javie! I'm on my period."
That would shut him up.
I bought myself five more minutes
in paradise.
The dingy shack
on Taylor Street opened to the cobblestone Via Argentina--
Rome. Italia.
I walked along
Winding through side streets,
A church comes into view
Santa Maria Sopra Minerva
Turn the corner-- Piazza della Rotonda
And the Pantheon. I was there.
If only for a single moment.
“Get out!”
I flush the moment away.
Damn it.
I left the bathroom as Javie
slammed the door behind me
I opened the rusty screen door
Walked barefoot onto the scorching concrete
Past the washing machine
Over to our droopy clothesline
and grabbed a clothespin off the line
with a squeak.
I squeezed the clothespin between my fingers
and took in the setting sun in desert sky.
A color wheel
The teals and oranges
Artists brushstrokes
mixing the violet and scarlet
reflecting off of tufts of clouds
still hanging above me.
Silence.
I envision the Roman piazza
Across the sea
The exquisite meal waiting there for me.
Squeak.
The artists in front of The Pantheon
Squeak.
Paint on a canvas
Squeak.
Sipping wine in a glass
Squeak.
I’m not there.
Silence.
Squeak.
I began to sob as I remember
Mom said
We were Gypsies.
Reality sank in
I looked at the shabbiness that surrounded me.
"Things like that were never meant for Gypsies like us."

But didn't Gypsies live in Rome, too?