My Italy

Already I can smell the olives,
ground coffee and drains,
and am looking forward to being met
at the station by our usual taxi driver,
the one whose sweat oozes like marzipan,
the one who travels with a paper bag of figs
exploding all over his passenger seat.
Already I am following the fingering
of the badly shaved accordion player
who sits on his cane chair
outside our favourite trattoria.
Already I can see those familiar twists of tissue paper
fall from his chin like blood red butterflies.
I can also see those sploshes of sunlight
on your bedroom wall, and that look in your eyes
as you step out of the shower
your skin dimpled with water,
your mouth sucking the cold Soave from my lips
with an unexpectedly reckless kiss.

^

Biography

Born in Leeds, Nigel had his first work published at university but stopped writing soon after graduation. He returned to poetry after attending an Arvon Foundation course in 1995, going on to start performing his work at a number of venues and eventually winning a commendation in the UK's National Poetry Competition in 1997. A graduate from the UEA Creative Writing MA, his work has appeared in Poetry Ealing, Reactions 2, Rue Bella, Smiths Knoll and The Wolf. He has read at the Hay and Ilkley Festivals and a pamphlet, Pet Sounds, is due to be published by the Mattock Press later this year.