Arezzo : Writing

It's All True!

It's All True!

A Poem by Arezzo


On one of those old black-and-whites with Orson "Spendthrift" Welles on board, and many memos lying ignored, the studio's money men took fright...
Hermione, Badly

Hermione, Badly

A Poem by Arezzo


Whenever, now, I think of her, I see a blonde, but blank-faced, blur. Though Time can heal most kinds of pain, detergent won't budge every stain..
Where Nobody Knows Your Name

Where Nobody Knows Your Name

A Poem by Arezzo


I crossed from Boston Common to the pub on Beacon Street. A barstool, banter, beers awaited me, for I was bound for "Cheers", the suds-and-sucke..
Marxism For Dummies (1)

Marxism For Dummies (1)

A Poem by Arezzo


"Two kinds of people in this world, my friend," as that great thinker, Tuco, used to say: the road to Wigan Pier has reached its end? We're sta..
In an Old London Tavern

In an Old London Tavern

A Poem by Arezzo


The warm, dark wood of the high-backed stalls enclosed us like a womb, and, nose to nose, we talked with our eyes, oblivious of the room. ..
"My Mistress' Eyes Are Nothing Like the Sun"

"My Mistress' Eyes Are Nothing Like the Sun"

A Poem by Arezzo


My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun. Her skin's mahogany, not noble white. She slaps on paints and fillers by the ton, and has the dress ..
He Apologises to an Erstwhile Lover

He Apologises to an Erstwhile Lover

A Poem by Arezzo


Love is a kind of madness and, as such, can sometimes hoist its victims to strange heights. Though love may cause a fever where it bites, this t..
Looking Through Gary Gilmore's Eyes

Looking Through Gary Gilmore's Eyes

A Poem by Arezzo


I can see clearly now the rain has gone. I read the news today, oh boy. Psycho killer -- qu'est-ce que c'est? Nice surprise. They've given me his..
I Get Along Without You Very Well

I Get Along Without You Very Well

A Poem by Arezzo


My life's been fine without you -- really has. A Belgian bar has opened in the square, and weekends, we do beer and tapas there, then Malcolm an..
A French Landscape

A French Landscape

A Poem by Arezzo


after Paul ClaudelThe river, not caring to hurry, reaches the floor of the wide valley without a worry in the world. More of a stream, really: ..