Gino

Excessive but alive
Even when gambling

With cards time future
Gino knew

The wax gates & run off
Of bronze & little things
Otherwise forgotten

Then suddenly furious
He'd sweep an oak table clean
Declaring "This is shit!"

Brushing all off away &
After lunch his observations
Explosive amid plaster molds

With plastic cup with white wine
With gravelly remarks

He sometimes exaggerated
Sometimes jeweled

But always with pride & patina
His work & word cast finished