A poem


We were hoping

you might think

things through,

try to get over it.


No matter your

beloved Cavaradossi

lies executed

at your feet,


Liberty is in the air,

Art will prevail and

you, luscious diva,

can love again.


Floria, stop! Let

fly your faith to

unfetter hope. Just

this time, please —


please don’t jump. Fling

that nasty Spoletta

off the parapet instead.