Signorina Gherardini's

prophetic visitations

of a drunk's

medical conference

before film-reels

of attentive eyes.

Franco dubbed

this, one of the world's many crises;

xanthelasma,

as Dylan dreamt of 'Highway Blues'.

 

There is nothing here

for the common muse

to hammer

a nail upon.

I'd prefer the eyes

on a plate, on the ledge;

newsprint in the cavities

splashing vacante,

with the river, track

and bridge being all that matters.
 

 

(https://www.nytimes.com/2010/01/10/weekinreview/10grist.html)