I hope you realize that there is no word "fair" in Italian. But given the context, I guess it's acceptable to use, since it's the name of a specific place. Just remember to capitalize it next time as such, lest you confuse someone like myself who knows Italian.

A clear misinterpretation, the commonplace "God can't exist because evil is incompatible with his goodness." This has been disproven in so many books I've lost count and the ideas expressed in that are badly outdated. No further comment except relativism: if there was no such thing as evil, there would be no such thing as good, because if everything was good it would be nothing but the norm. Without evil to compare good to, good cannot exist as there is no basis for comparison. What would you call good in a world in which evil didn't exist? Not simply good, because there is no relativism. No, I'd say that the existence of evil is absolutely necessary FOR good things like God to exist.

Not bad

There are a lot of words in some, especially Commons Street and A Genocide Memory. If you're capable of enjoying these two (not many are), enjoy their messages more than their not-so-eloquent speech.

If you want enjoyment, check out the Pigeon. But make sure you've read Poe's Raven first and are familiar with its form and its manner of narration, or my mocking will seem more like raving stupidity than glorious madness.

Thank you for the kind words, but the Crohn's symptoms, although I felt light internal pain last Sunday (not even enough to make me keel over), will not be returning anytime soon. Maybe in 2 years or so, if ever.

If you want to read more of my work, check out http://www.sunysuffolk.edu/~perea61/anthony.html
That page doesn't contain any of my best works (most of it is ameteur in my terms), since I would find it more pleasant to surprise people with my best if and when they read it published, and the two passages from "Perfect Rows" are passages I liked for an idea on a novel I've long since abandoned (my current work, "Fallen," will not have any previews, unless I change my mind).

I contracted Crohn's Disease in August of last year, and it led to depression that eventually was brought to a head in November, when, after parodying Poe's "The Raven" with my poem "The Pigeon," I got hit with a 10-month case of writer's block. In May I had abdominal surgery to relieve symptoms, and on August 30 of this year the block was ended by this mysterious poem I wrote at 12:15 am, which I can't even remember how I wrote and could not write it again if stripped of my memory of it and then asked to do so. Its words are simply etched into my brain and despite having scribbled it out in only 15 minutes, I can't bring myself to revise it. Anyway, tell me what you think, and be kind since it is after all my first writing in a LONG time. Consider the symbolism too!

The Rose, by AP
Aug. 30, 2004
For all who've stood by me through bad times and good

One day beyond all clarity,
A special Rose was born
From out the soil, a rarity
Without a single thorn.

So I heard from mother dear
In bedtime tales ago,
When light of day could drive off fear
And ever-present woe.

I look still for that Rose today
In Gardens of the skies;
Where tranquil, cloudless meadow lay
No thornless flower lies.

Yet I shall not see clarity
Until with eye forlorn,
I see that precious rarity
Without a single thorn.

But mother says I search too far
By travelling the skies;
For with us, not upon some star
The finest flow'r resides.


I'm also thinking about writing this in a birthday card for a female friend I met a few days before who was probably the inspiration for it. Good idea or bad?