We Write Poems / As Leaves Give

It Takes A Spasm Of Love To Write A Poem.

Sadly, Because Of The Enormous Gap Between Rich And Poor, Some Mothers Can Afford Helpers, But Many Can't. Those Who Can Would Be Kinder To Refrain From Criticizing Other Women.

There Is A Rhythm To The Ending Of A Marriage Just Like The Rhythm Of A Courtship, Only Backward.

Venice Is Ever The Fragile Labyrinth At The Edge Of The Sea And It Reminds Us How Brief And Perilous The Journeys Of Our Lives Are; Perhaps That Is Why We Love It So. City Of Plagues And Brief Liaisons, City Of Lingering Deaths And Incendiary Loves, City Of Chimeras, Nightmares, Pigeons, Bells. You Are The Only City In The World Whose Dialect Has A Word For The Shimmer Of Canal Water Reflected On The Ceiling Of A Room.

How Could One Create Life With Someone Who Represented Death?