I sense a portent inflating / an unlikely fellowship forming / and yet as swiftly as communion effloresced, / they leave, / pedalling into the distance / on their restored velocipede, / a no-look wave flicked me funereal way.
Criticisms of poor accuracy can usually be justified, but the occasional error (as in many a published work) can still slip through.
How was the party? Out of sight, man!
Intriguingly, what won them back to him was an attempt by Soviet officials and expatriates in Paris to ruin his first postdefection performance by booing and throwing coins onto the stage as he began the demanding Bluebird solo in “The Sleeping Beauty.”
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