Paul Cezanne, Afternoon in Naples, 1875 The glasses were emptyand the bottle was shatteredand the bed was wide openand the door was tight shutteredand all the glass starsof happiness and beautyglittered in the dust of the dirty roomand I was dead drunkand I was a fire of joyyou were drunk and alivein my naked arms. E …
Giorgio de Chirico, Mystery and Melancholy of a Street, 1914 I can wade Grief – Whole Pools of it – I’m used to that – But the least push of Joy Breaks up my feet – And I tip – drunken – So guardare il dolore – pozze intere di esso – ci sono abituata. …
Emily Dickinson – So guardare il dolore / I can wade grief Read More »
Caravaggio, Bacchus, c. 1595 This bread I break was once the oat, This wine upon a foreign tree Plunged in its fruit; Man in the day or wine at night Laid the crops low, broke the grape’s joy. Once in this time wine the summer blood Knocked in the flesh that decked the vine, Once …
Dylan Thomas – Questo pane che spezzo / This bread I break Read More »
Chuck Close, Big self-portrait, 1968 (acrylic on canvas) – You know: I’m drunk once again here listening to Tchaikovsky on the radio. Jesus, I heard him 47 years ago when I was a starving writer and here he is again and now I am a minor success as a writer and death is walking up …
Charles Bukowski – La morte si fuma i miei sigari / Death is smoking my cigars Read More »
I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked,dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix,angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night,who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high sat up smoking in the supernatural …
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