<div>An unyielding fever of 103, the Sochi Olympics, and a state of inspirational semidelirium came together as Vladimir Azarov sat in front of his television, images swirled in his mind like a waltzing kaleidoscope. Memories from decades past were triggered as the Pussy Riot girls were being whipped by Cossacks. Marilyn Monroe of <I>Some Like It Hot </I>became his muse while he composed recollections: his first trip to Sochi in 1962; sitting with Henry Moore at his home in Much Haddam; discussing verisimilitudes with Pasolini, art with Frank O’Hara, film and acting with Leni Riefenstahl; shock at terrorists killing Israelis in Munich. As the 2014 Games ended, his fever abated. This remarkable book of poems arose from those two weeks.</div>