Luna Andreotta Whore ❤️

About Naples

So, whore—whaddya reckon? Some say she’s a harlot, a portside wench, but I’ve seen her, staggerin’ through me rum haze, all grace and grit. She’s no common trollop, nah, she’s got secrets stitched in her skirts. Heard tell she once conned a governor outta his gold—true story, mate! Used nothin’ but a wink and a pilfered fan. Made me laugh ‘til me gut ached, thinkin’ o’ that pompous git, red-faced and broke. Savvy?

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So, I sit on a bench, trying to chill. I pull out my sketchbook, doodling some fish ideas. Suddenly, this seagull swoops down and snatches my sandwich! I’m like, “Hey! That’s my lunch!” The little thief just flies off, and I’m left there, sandwich-less and grumpy.

Giorgio Andreotta Calò. La scultura lingua morta III