OLD JOE CINO
Here's the freshest scene I'm painting -
a brush within my hand, another in my head,
bleeding color like a rainiac would bleed rain.
I won't even bend down for fear the audience
here would miss a beat - this old joint, this
mess, this ruddy, old stocking, hung by a
chimney with care.
-
'Porcino was short, and he always smelled; not
that he was dirty, I don't mean that. But he had a
virile, manly smell. He was short and plump
and he got plumper. He had eyes like Hedy
Lamarr. His eyes could just transfix you.
And he was so kind, that it seemed like a
character flaw : an abundant, humanistic,
and all-embracing hopeful attitude.'
-
'Porcino? We all called him that. I
think it meant something like, little
fat pig - something. Anyway, old
Joe, he never really minded.'
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