Fellini in Purgatory
He was shoveling sand at the edge of the water, his heavy black glasses glittered with rain: "Don't you see how much like a woman I am?" Shovel, shovel. His throat was wrapped in water, and the water flowered with milt. Shoveler, are you eating the earth? Earth eating you? Teach me what I have to have to live in this country. And he, as calm as calm, though he was dead: "Oh,—milt,—and we're all of us milt."
From Door in the Mountain. Copyright © 2004 by Jean Valentine. Reprinted with permission of Wesleyan University Press.