Aeroplanino

If I can’t find words
or if they are halted by a synaptic lock keeper,
tyrannical yet wise, holding up a hand
to delay the latest craft, whatever its design,
I return to a trusted question,
my favourite formula:
Have you ever heard of Vincenzo Montella?

If I can’t find truth
or it’s out there in muddied layers of time
resounding through Sheldrake’s field
as memory traces in the collective mind,
I return to a trusted question,
my favourite formula:
Have you ever heard of Vincenzo Montella?

If I can’t dance
a question forms and lands
to looks as if from continent to continent,
with bafflement in subtle lines above the eyes.
My friends, do you know of the Aeroplanino,
our absent choreographer?
Have you ever heard of Vincenzo Montella?

If I can’t find beauty
or its sun in England only shines obliquely
forming shadows on our game
of a mild September evening,
I return to a trusted question,
my favourite formula:
Has anyone here heard of Vincenzo Montella?