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.
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