Poem For Cora Comments

Briefly there is heaven amongst the flowers in the villa but my heart is somewhere else I cannot stand the incessant whining and chatter and false pretenses of glory proposing to write magnum opuses, what is it? nothing but food for cockroaches in tiny library nooks seldom seen by living souls yet;

Reaching a crescendo, thunder growling like thousand foxes in the distant ready to pounce on unsuspecting smaller fauna; the crescendo erasing the soft stiletto-pointed step-in worn by a lost Ukrainian damsel looking for an Italian savior in a hot humid night while the chug-chugging ferry sleeps;
...
Read full text