The new Minister of Culture has delighted Brazilians over the years with fifty albums of his songs. The interviewer asks about the content of his lyrics. "Oh, everything," he says, sweepingly, in a dark brown voice. He starts the list: Lava Fairs...
My mind arrests fumbling to encompass this new range of unexpected meanings – setting up a hoopla booth on the fertile slopes of Vesuvius, peddling roast chestnuts straight from the crater's mouth, where red-hot passion explodes up into the atmosphere.
At the edge of the sea may come hissing steamy petrifaction, but until then hearts teeter on the volcano's brink, hold hands and jump, deciding to go with the flow.
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