“I approached Pierluigi Cappello when he became my bedside table companion. We didn’t know each other, but were already intimate. His poems are full of images, I might even have dreamt some. I didn’t know anything about his personal life, about the motorcycle accident when he was sixteen, and that he spent the rest of his life in a wheelchair. There’s no trace of it in the poems: in his verses Pierluigi runs, and sometimes he flies.”
3.5 / 5
