Almost Sad In Geneva

Lake Léman must float the weight of the city – Its grey stolid affluence needs hydraulic help. Our paddle steamer chuffs beyond the tall fountain. For a while, grand houses bob beside us. In Geneva the poor must fit between the opulence. Up ahead, Mont Blanc, and other Wagnerian massifs, begin to shrink us into fisheyes. Then sunlight spills its sky into the deep waters. Suddenly we are afloat on mountaintops! I could be almost happy here if we were not just renting this moment. When we return to the city the sky will be gray once more, the poor will still be poor. Outside the stylish patisseries, sparrows will still fight for crumbs.