That Nature loves the best for Beauty’s grave…"
— Edgar Allan Poe from “Al Aaraaf”
Percy Bysshe Shelley goes up to the counter and orders two venti espressos. He sets them down on the table in front of him like majestic stone pillars. He stands, knocks them to the ground dramatically, and leaves the shop. The barista hears his cries echo through the deserted street: “Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!”