I was betrayed by Bohemia early in my life and left a run-down hotel with my eye swollen shut by an insect bite but got my revenge in France and Italy and wasn't bitten once in those two countries. I swore off free meals and book-stealing both there and elsewhere and if I got something for nothing it wasn't by schnorring so have a heart, pedagogus. Think of Baudelaire and his clouds or Michelangelo on his step ladder putting a little spit in for tone and a gob or two for substance just to please the flunkies down there even as they kicked the wooden legs their tongues out in excitement though I have to interrupt to say God did it with a voice not a finger, n'est-ce pas? Copyright © 2016 Gerald Stern. Used with permission of the author. |
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