The poet was stuck in his house like everybody else in Italy, sleeping too little, buzzed with a sense of emergency and listlessness, and wondering how to fill the time. So over the weekend, he published his cellphone number on social media. He was an “old hypochondriac,” he said, and was willing to talk. Anybody could call him up.
“I am available every morning from nine until noon,” Franco Arminio wrote.
In the days since, in one phone call after the next, Arminio has received an intimate portrait of Italy under coronavirus lockdown — of a nation that is bored, afraid, antsy, thinking about everything from quiet daily beauty to death. People have talked to him about books, and loneliness, and trees. A beekeeper said birds are “quietly singing in the countryside.” A factory worker said his plant had closed down.
— Read on www.washingtonpost.com/world/europe/italy-coronavirus-poet-franco-arminio-phone-calls/2020/03/19/e6c6ae02-687f-11ea-b199-3a9799c54512_story.html