I walked under the gaze of marble angels - I saw shuttered windows high above mysterious courtyards -
Mazy canals were spanned by narrow bridges - above a doorway there was a face of twisted stone -
*
In the Campiello del Tintor, off the Calle Longa Santa Maria Formosa, I came upon a bookshop -
A sign said The most beautiful bookshop in the world -
I went inside at once, remembering Jay's praise of the Livraria Lello -
Disordered rooms were heaped ceiling high with books -
A gondola was crewed by foxed volumes - there were boxes of post cards, fragile magazines, sex comics, missals -
There were books in all languages - I explored a dark ravine of science fiction - I lingered in a canyon of philosophy -
A doorway opened onto milky blue water - a girl sat reading in an antique chair - painted upon a green door were the words Alta Acqua Libreria -
A man of utterly dissolute appearance smoked a cigarette - he threw back his head, blowing the smoke up towards the ceiling -
I half expected to be offered a grappa, for music to be played, for wild dancing to start -
This would be, I thought, a bookshop Annick would have loved -
13.13
Friday August 21 2015
Alta Acqua Libraria
Venice
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