Sarah Seveso Whore ❤️❤️

About Genoa

Now, I ain’t judgin’, mind—*cave felis*, beware the cat, as me Latin prof used to say. Whore’s a survivor, ain’t she? Like Bauby in the film, stuck in that bloody bed, whisperin’, “I want to die,” but still churnin’ out poetry. Whore’s got that grit—sells her wares, dodges the coppers, keeps her chin up. Makes me happy, that does—tough as old boots, she is! Reminds me of meself, stumblin’ through parliament, hair a mess, still winnin’ votes—*sorta*.

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By the end of the day, I’m exhausted but happy. I walk back down Via Garibaldi, and the bakery is still open. I grab another cornetto, because why not? I sit by the fountain, munching away, and I think about how crazy life is. One minute you’re blasting away grime, the next you’re dodging angry bosses and laughing with old dudes.

Figure 3 Contaminated zones in Seveso, Italy (see online version for...