john temple finnigan


Symbiosis In Loud Water

I stood on my head in the boat;
you accepted my offer of my only rose;
gondolier Giovanni freaked somewhat, my theory
being that Canaletto entered a bloodstream,

him and Vivaldi, in a season of collaborations
such as professors cannot quantify, it with
its cutthroat sunbeams balling up Baroque, Rococo,
lightsigns competing in anecdotal rippling.

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