Vulcanology Poem by Jay Alexander

Stromboli, Lipari, Salina,
Panarea, Alicudi, Vulcano.
The names rolled off the tongue
Like waves bouncing off the ferry,
Carrying him from Milazzo to Vulcano.
He leaned over the side, stared into the
Wine dark sea, recalling, that below,
Lay Vulcan's forge;
Sometimes it brought
Attention to itself,
Spewing fire and brimstone,
From Etna and Stromboli, whenever
Vulcan's wife, Venus, was unfaithful.
For now the god was easy,
And lesser mortals went about their
Business undisturbed.
Turning to his,
Fellow passengers,
Enjoying the Sicilian sun
And breezy sea air,
He noted a handful of locals,
A few north African hawkers,
But most, like him, day-trippers.
He sat close to three girls,
Chattering and giggling,
They were about his age 16 or 17.
One caught his eye,
And in garbled Italian
He asked if she was
From Milazzo, she didn't
Seem to understand,
Embarrassed she
Turned to her two friends,
Then one replied,
In perfect english:
All three of us are from Milazzo......