53 Wakeup call

Reading:

Wakeup call

Gazing at the ceiling
In an Italian B and B
I try to steer my thoughts
Away from England, stricken with its
Plague of loathing and incomprehension.
Hypocrites and scoundrels run the show
By stirring interracial tension.
Politics here’s no better of course
And in Sicily the Mafia’s a curse
Though it hasn’t done us any harm.
But people have great charm,
Ever ready with a smile,
Especially when you
Try to speak your 
Few words in their language. 
Not so my countrymen. 
Veiled contempt their image
Of anyone who shows
Up using funny English. 
‘Ere Alphonso!’
The ceiling fades. I doze.
My mobile blurts out an alarm 
To interrupt our last caress
Before we rise for cappuccinos.