Yeah, prose poetry is awesome. And Calvino is god.
Italo Calvino, Invisible Cities, "Cities and Memory 1"
Leaving there and proceeding for three days toward the east, you reach Diomira, a city with sixty silver domes, bronze statues of all the gods, streets paved with lead, a crystal theater, a golden c0ck that crows each morning on a tower. All these beauties will already be familiar to the visitor, who has seen them also in other cities. But the special quality of this city for the man who arrives there on a September evening, when the days are growing shorter and the multicolored lamps are lighted all at once at the doors of the food stalls and from a terrace a womans voices cries ooh!, is that he feels envy toward those who now believe they have once before lived an evening identical to this and who think they were happy, that time.
Edit: hah, it censored c0ck.
), although you do make an interesting point. Correct grammar can limit alot of things about peoples' expressions, also, even though not by much (as colorful vocabulary and use of a variety of expressions can be helpful).
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