Teatro Massimo

Teatro Massimo

This opera house a hive
Hanging off the high branch
Of Palermo’s main street
The boxes cells drones built
Dark and hexagonal
Brimming with the honey
Of all these lips and eyes
The great singer the queen
Overfed to fatness
She who all this is for
Hits a note that seems like
It might shatter the glass
Lamp fixtures but doesn’t
Just like that it’s over
Becalmed as if by smoke
They float out of the hive
To visit the flowers
Of the open cafes