And citrus, citrus, everywhere
the scent of it that sneaks
around the thicker clouds of
smoke and racing children
on their scooters, motors, bikes,
trying to move somewhere and
know something about this world,
here as everywhere,
the fruits hang heavy in the trees,
some already spilled and musical
upon the ground and squat,
so many people gazing at the mountain
in the distance from the stones
lining the bay that read
”TOURISM KILLS THIS CITY” and I,
dutifully, take a picture and feel my
camera, like the scent of lemon, lie
heavy on my tongue
- Palermo (Marie-Therese Sauer, 2025)
