Image Junkyard 4, Week 5

Proud of my parolaccia, I whisper to Samuele, "Non ho fatto cazzo...I didn't do dick," and he leans forward, furrows like the lines of vineyards pushing forward on his forehead, "That's not Italian, that's Napoli." And I ask if all bad words come from Naples, a joke he doesn't get. Naples hangs its bad words from the balconies crammed between dingy skyscrapers like dirty sheets.