2003-03-05 6:34 pm

Cassanova

Cassanovas belong to a dying breed: the lover/activist. They rush about, not only enjoying the thrill of sexual play, but delighting in the feeling of rebelling against something - a sort of sleepfulness that effects us all, from time to time.

I envy such figures enormously, although it is easy to mock them. I am jealous of their heaving chests and their bovine eyes. I want to possess their eloquence and their courage.

Instead I fumble with the buttons and watch with forlorn interest as spiders trickle down from my fringe - abandoning a sinking ship, perhaps.

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