Somehow Paul Violi remains one of the most underrated poets still writing. Me thinks his books should sell in the Billy Collins (Paul's close friend) digits or he should be at the least be as lauded as John Ashbery- okay at least a super-close 2nd to Ashbery? His new book, Overnight shows Violi to be in top wit + astounding intellect something rare in today's poetry. So since it's a sunny Monday morning here in New York city let's celebrate one of the finest:
What'll it be?
Roast beef on rye, with tomato and mayo.
Whudduhyuh want on it?
A swipe of mayo.
Pepper but no salt.
You got it. Roast beef on rye
. . . You want lettuce on that?
No. Just tomato and mayo.
Tomato and mayo. You got it.
. . . Salt and pepper?
No salt. Just a little pepper.
You got it. No salt.
You want tomato.
Yes. Tomato. No lettuce.
No lettuce. You got it.
. . . No salt, right?
Right. No salt.
You got it. — Pickle?
No, no pickle. Just tomato and mayo.
Yes, a little pepper.
Right. A little pepper.
Right. No pickle.
You got it.
Roast beef on whole wheat, please,
With lettuce, mayonnaise and a center slice
Of beefsteak tomato.
The lettuce splayed, if you will,
In a Beaux Arts derivative of classical acanthus,
And the roast beef, thinly sliced, folded
In a multi-foil arrangement
That eschews Bragdonian pretensions
Or any idea of divine geometric projection
For that matter, but simply provides
A setting for the tomato
To form a medallion with a dab
Of mayonnaise as a fleuron.
And — as eclectic as this may sound —
If the mayonnaise can also be applied
Along the crust in a Vitruvian scroll
And as a festoon below the medallion,
That would be swell.
You mean like in the Cathedral St. Pierre in Geneva?
Yes, but the swag more like the one below the rosette
At the Royal Palace in Amsterdam.
You got it.