First Day
In this moment I’ve woken up
Under a grey bridge in a white city
That I know is unknown to me.
The street littered with black cats
Because the storm is coming.
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In this moment I’ve woken up
Under a grey bridge in a white city
That I know is unknown to me.
The street littered with black cats
Because the storm is coming.
The whole Island of Italy had set out to write me poems of tragedy & reversals of fortune, not one which was worth reading in the lowest wreckage or highest reach of my despondency. I stomped on my golden cape and tore off my... Continue →