In Medias Res

by Michael Steiner

A man stops me and slides a beaded

Bracelet onto my arm with an elephant

Charm on it for good luck and then another

Bracelet, green and black, and says

It’s for my mother before demanding money

That I deny having. He has change, he tells

Me, he has change, he has change, until

I offer the bracelets back, but he just knuckle

Bumps me and walks away. I cannot

Remember where I put my phone and I am

Standing by the Trevi fountain where

A classmate saw a man get pickpocketed,

And I am pretty sure that someone was

Rifling through my own backpack outside

Of the Pantheon while I still had it on

Earlier and they were talking to me.

I am not sure exactly even what

Direction to go in, and my hotel is

Off my little map that I was given,

So I walk to the side of the street,

Sit by one of the little nasoni that spit out

Potable water all over the city, check

My backpack pockets one by one, breathe

A sigh of relief when I find the phone

In the bottom pocket, the one I check last.

When I get off the metro and eat a tiramisu

From a McDonald’s so I can use their wi-fi

To map a mental route back to the hotel on

A street I can barely remember the name of,

It’s my phone that I use, that I would have

Never made it back without, and yet right

Now this is where I would like to be, for I

Never would have gotten to know the city

If I hadn’t walked the streets like this,

A little frightened, a little excited, seen

The Colosseum lit up from below by

Dozens of lights next to the pitch black

Circus Maximus with the little old Italian

Ladies walking their dogs alone at night,

Alone at night like me, in Rome, in Italy.