Postcards from the End

[Milan, 9/13/26] Somehow I made it to Singapore without losing my mind, good looks, eyesight, hope, cynicism, wallet, wrath, sweetness, stench and minimal interest in the next Seahawks game. Leaving Italy, I decided to read a Pavese poem, so discovered I had translated his “Death will Come With Your Eyes,” available online. With my camera set up at Malpensa, I had a hard time reciting, however. I was so overcome with emotions. On the plane, I thought, better not post that.

Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when published Verrà la morte e avrà i tuoi occhi Verrà la morte e avrà i tuoi occhi-- questa morte che ci accompagna dal mattino alla sera, insonne, sorda, come un vecchio rimorso o un vizio assurdo. I tuoi occhi saranno una vana parola, un grido taciuto, un silenzio. Così li vedi ogni mattina quando su te sola ti pieghi nello specchio. O cara speranza, quel giorno sapremo anche noi che sei la vita e sei il nulla.

[Naples, 9/5/26] Since y’all saw me last, I sneaked into Florence, Certaldo, Siena and Milan. Should have been in Paris by now, but I changed my mind. Tomorrow, I’ll fly to Singapore, with a very long layover in Beijing. I’m just too worn out, man, and deflated, mostly by degraded Naples. What a sad mess that city has become, especially its historical center.

[Naples, 9/10/26] Teaching myself Italian from 2002 to 2004, I didn’t just read the newspapers, but listen to news and pop songs. All tunes were sweet, with no English inserted. In 2026, there’s this hit, “White Girl Wasted,” from rapper Anna.

[Naples, 9/9/26] Rich, “What I meant was you don’t have to fly half way around the world to take pictures of homeless people and most of us silly people would be taking pictures of the Buildings Art and Sculptures that Naples, as you stated, offers...” I’m focusing on this gentleman because he’s representative of so much that’s wrong with our era. First off, he doesn’t really read my articles, but just drop by to fart then run, for I’ve clearly stated how much I love Italy.

[Naples, 9/8/26] Knowing I was in Naples, a friend emailed me from Frankfurt, “Enjoy your time there—you should see how Italy morphes into 3-world-status—as we are too here in Germany.” Notice his resignation, but this man once told me he’s “rather critical of Israel.” That’s like saying I’m rather disappointed in someone who’s destroying my homeland and culture. His email’s subject, “Neapel sehen und sterben…” Christian has read Phan Nhật Nam and Phạm Duy Khiêm, however, so no ordinary German.

[Naples, 9/6/26] At 4:13AM, I begin, but nothing is normal. Since arrival, I’ve been disheartened. Yesterday, I met a group of Burmese, all around 25. “Is this your first time here?” I asked. “Yes,” they all answered, though one, a woman no older than 22, was studying in the capital, just up the coast. “This reminds me a lot of Cairo. You know, an ancient city with a lot of history, but decaying, a shithole, more or less,” I had to laugh, “but still magnificent.

Sitting outside Ông Bầu, I noticed an old white man walking towards me. For a second, we made eye contact. Once inside, he kept looking, I could half detect, towards me and my điếu cày. I should offer him a sample hit or two, I thought, but delayed this, since I hadn’t found a way to begin today’s article. “Work makes one free,” the Nazis counseled. “Work is glorious,” said Uncle Hồ.

Pitch, “Writing from Nanning, Pingxiang, Đồng Đăng, Hanoi, Huế, Tuy An and Vũng Tàu, I document our economic, social, psychic and cognitive collapse. I discuss Joyce’s “The Dead,” quote from Tocqueville, Orwell and Rilke, and sketch many obscured individuals. I review Julio Cortazar’s “House Taken Over” and Joe Berlinger and Bruce Sinofsky’s documentary, My Brother’s Keeper.

With US missile and drone stocks depleted to alarming levels, Trump has decided to fly a specially designed F-35 to Iran, and just defecate on them. That AI video of him crapping on American protesters was just an appetizer. Wearing neither pants nor diaper, Trump will sit on a toilet seat above an open hatch and let fly. Asked if he had enough fecal matter to terrorize a vast nation of 93.2 million people, Trump responded with his typical swagger, “I have enough shit to murder the entire world.