ldehyde with
the decapitated heads from Belle Epoque sailors were
possible here.

Boca was more obscure than Gaspirilla Island. More so.

And a final verdict, if there is need for one, can be seen in
Boca's last will and testimony.

He let it be known of his intention to chisel the "ultimate"
one-liner. One to grace his own tombstone. On this he set
to work with a last burst of frenzy.

"To mirror my tragic-comic fate", as he would have said.

Perhaps Boca is still at work, either on the snappy final
wording ("the right elasticity") or in the mechanics of the
engraving itself.

Only a stone-cutter could estimate the probable expenditure
in time for the latter.

Novelists in dire need of fresh insights should enlist Boca.
He's definitely available, if difficult to reach.

Boca might have rescued many a masterpiece from the
dustbin, if not the Box Office, had his specialty been
known.

I look at Boca and hear fire bells. His plight remains the
very stuff of tragedy. By epic standards, how many Bocas
are there worthy of a balladeer and myth maker? Credible
Boca may be, but understandable?

Boca, the metaphoric equivalent of a Sisyphus chained to
his rock of obsession.

"This horrible rock", (or pebble depending on your
viewpoint), wailed Boca.

"I've become my own obstacle, my work is the
personification of my own limitation."

Worse, imprisoned in an inescapable logic and the narrow
confines of a blink of talent.

WORK IN PROGRESS

Two Chinese fellows approached me in a London suburb.
They were eager for talk.

"Karl Marx's tomb," they implored, "directions to the tomb,
please." They were pronouncing "tomb" as if it rhymed with home.

Suited up in their Mao jackets and identically dressed
without hint to rank or station, they struck me as strangely
odd even on the thoroughfares of a metropolitan city. I had
noticed they wore no green armband common to other
Communist dignitaries.

The smaller of the two became insistent.

I nodded and smiled at the mention of Marx's name for it
was Highgate and, yes, he was interred in the rambling
cemetery near by. Yes, I had visited the grave but was no
means clear it was a grave they had come all this way to
visit.

They were shy but puzzled at my redirection of their query.
I pointed out there was no "home" as they were
pronouncing it, but, only a "g