I never want to visit Venice, <br />its waters put me off, especially <br />in the summer and the idea of raw <br /> sewage bobbing in the canals. <br /> <br />Reading James's Daisy Miller <br />I am stifled by the decadence <br />of the tale, the opulent emptiness <br />of the rich; their pedestrian lives. <br /> <br />Watching Visconti's Death in Venice <br />I am disturbed by the moroseness <br />of the main character, his chilling <br />deadly presence in the deck chair <br /> <br />looking at the teenage boy without <br />a word being spoken; the sullen, <br />sickly presence of something <br />oozing from the film, breathing <br /> <br />out of celluloid down onto me <br />in the cinema. Lord Byron <br />calls the city- Sea Sodom. <br />I never want to visit Venice.<br /><br />Stratis Havarti<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/venice-20/
