The poet Wynn Yarbrough speaks here of a classic Italian pasta dish featuring the Anchovy, and of the prostitutes for whom this dish is named. For the text of the complete prose poem, click here. — The Schoolmarm
the hookers in milan need to keep the carbs up . . .
on puttanesca night, you can smell them
in the garlic evening, anchovies swimming
to their stomach in a spray of salt water. they stand
in a doorway, packed, wriggling . . .
