vince gullaci Biography

I missed the rain
but the metaphorical hit
between the eyes
left me reeling
...

I'm tired,
more tired
of myself
than anything
...

I'll bring a brioche
with coffee dear
what would you like
with the brioche
...

Persimmon trees
are bugiardi
they flower again
out of season
...

The end of the dream
and into the nightmare
sideshow distortions
and Edvard Munch screams
...