Mrs. Stuart Davis is not in the room
her martini glass is empty
the inside is dried to stickiness
left on the edge of the stained pale pink

vanity, a fetching pose framed in silver --
	Mrs. Stuart Davis, 
				slender and perched in sand  
	her eyes chicly shun the camera
	brown hair cascades her left shoulder 
						 
the black sheet which drapes the mirror has slipped 
 
the mirror 
reflects the window, reflects brick 

Peggy's Travels to Florence

Florence or Long Island
cachet or declassé

pears perfectly blend con la città

Fabio glides across la stanza
sits on the lap of la signorina
	ilarità!

una itsy bitsy montagna set nella campagna
molte le fontane e stone terraces

il gato 	il gato 	il gato
pervades la piazza
sleek and stout cosi cosi feroce

batting alabaster gli occhi and a good time

perchè?	perchè?  
St. Kate's head locked in a box in Sienna