Ode to an Italian Market
Oh market of ancestral pleasures, A carnival of old-school treasures, Your homemade fare, it lifts, amazes, I think it's time I sing your praises.
Behold those days my tired body's so grateful for your manicottis. The workday hard, the lunchroom cruel, No prob when we have your fa-jool*
On nights I'm out and can't cook dinner, I always have a pinch-hit w…