Horror Vacui


art by Pat Jones



For all its beauty, Venice has been cursed.
The shades of Shylock and von Aschenbach
lurk behind closed doors. Soon after dark
Sebastian Flyte inspires a giant thirst
on balconies above the Grand Canal,
where discontented sons of millionaires
console each other, high on Baudelaire’s
philosophy of life, Les Fleurs du mal.
Come Carnival they’ll all be sporting masks,
assuming alter egos by the score.
They’ll carry on the way they did before
but now feel free to flaunt their pocket flasks.
A lethal dose elicits no surprise.
Each gondolier is Charon in disguise.



by Duncan Gillies MacLaurin