In a gift of insomnia last night, I read loads of Robert Hass. This morning I awoke bubbling language. I imagined many comments on this entry (or some similar jejune specimen). They were just the kind you want: lots of misspellings, grammatical twig breaks. Independent minds working. I relished them, even as they evaporated in dawn waking.

All the new thinking is about love, in my case. In this it dissembles the old thinking.