“The French don’t care what they do, actually,
as long as they pronounce it properly.”
– Professor Henry Higgins, My Fair Lady

That’s my problem:
I do care what I do and what I say—
in Italian. Reading the Gospel
at Mass, and trying to pronounce it
properly, I read Non preoccupatevi
pet la vostra vita and what follows,
knowing I am preoccupied with what
tumbles from my tongue, scrambled neg-
atives and rushing to finish the next  sentence
only to realize He was asking a question.
I didn’t speak it from birth like my listeners,
only a year or so afterward when acqua
was my first word in any language,
taught by my Nonna who cautioned us to
“Parla in italiano, così quei ragazzacci
in fondo alla strada non capiranno
cosa stiamo dicendo.” But now, no bad kids
down the street, but the friars out there in chapel—
shouldn’t they capiranno what I’m dicendo?
I guess they can guess
but still like the French
I almost care more
that I pronounce it properly.