If on a Winter’s Night a Traveler
met ought of others who have read the book
I might not be surprised to hear, “I tried!”
Then, face to face, the sheepish guilty look.
Around, like most Calvino’s work, it twists
Like mazes and conspiracies, ¿porquois?
Our story often seems to run aground;
Can plot in plot in plot have denouement?
A call to arms for readers to unite?
Light parody of urban cultish lies?
Vehemently I protest as I read,
It might have gone too far, this exercise.
Now you have finally read this weird review
O, go on and start …A Traveler, too.
This is a Haiku.
If on a Winter’s Night a
Traveler is not.