Voices on the Wind
Voices on Aging
Nostalgia’s Pink Tongue
by Mark Vogel
For some, Marcello Mastrioni was once thought
permanent, but somehow without notice,
he has largely disappeared. As a cool perfect
specimen he has slipped to the sidelines
to live in peace with Sophia Loren, both smiling
with a wholesome Italian-ness so prevalent
in the 60s, nothing skinny or small in their eager
honesty. In today’s thin soiled detritus,
suave Marcello seems impossible, the only man
sophisticated enough for Sophia’s ample breasts.
Hand in hand, they strolled poor Naples, with eyes
only for each other. They tossed sunny retorts
back and forth with an innocence for a time when
nakedness was hidden, and foreplay lasted forever.
Known even by Missouri teens swatting mosquitos
on the Mississippi, smooth Marcello stood in
for all guys seeing Sophia as an earthy goddess.
Though this milieu has drifted into scrapbooks,
Sophia and Marcello remain fresh curiosities,
examples of what we could be. Where too,
are Steve McQueen and Ursula Andress? Dustin
Hoffman, fixated on plastic? Sydney Poitier,
shaking the world’s anger? Who else rapidly
will become mythic, as so many others drift?
What other eras will grow mythic, while others
drift into shadows? Who else will die, and
then grow large, rather than drying into dust?