" The Lord is my shepherd and the Director of Superbike Racing.
He buzzes me through three layers of security
To the innermost secret sanctum of the racing department.
I enter the adytum.
Trains are delayed.
The Florence sky is falling snow.
The man with the silent Chow Chow
Is tooting in the street
Below my room at the Hotel Baglioni-the Bag in Bo-
My marble home away from home, room 221.
He buzzes me through three layers of security,
Poetry, Politics, Medicine, into the adytum.
Tonight Bologna is fog.
This afternoon, there it was,
With all the mechanics who are making it around it.
It stood on a sort of altar.
I stood in a sort of fog,
Taking digital photographs of my death.”
-from Racer by Frederick Seidel