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Do it. And bring a bottle of the Pouilly-Jouvet '26
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in an ice bucket with two glasses
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so we don't have to drink
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the cat piss they serve in the dining car.
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I blame myself.
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She tried to tell me she had a premonition. I didn't listen.
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All of Lutz will be dressed in black,
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except her own ghastly, deceitful children
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whom she loathed and couldn't bear to kiss hello.
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They'll be dancing like gypsies.
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There's really no point in doing anything in life,
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because it's all over in the blink of an eye...