Abroad again. Even the houses are dancing.
In all the uncertainties of Amsterdam
I reread old diaries to remember who I am:
there’s Happy Donut—none of your usual morose donuts here!—
and songs with the names of towns in them
and wicked, wicked Caroline.
Is any place better without a lover? At least
some make you want to learn, not do: the rain
beating on the skylight like Paul Klee’s Timpanist, the sound
of a Van Gogh painting, a nap outside
beneath medieval walls—none of it a “force of nature.”
Learning not doing is a form of forgetting.
The Berkeley conference on trace elements
has explained this easily detectable weight loss to our complete
on the ocean you can learn the rest of the stars, all the way to
    the horizon.
This guy in Zagreb knows forty languages but he’s crazy.