The curse and blessing of Romeo & Juliet, for us all, is the arpeggio nature of the writing… so nylon string romantic it finds an egress when cornered no matter what. The hummingbird escape from a maximum security penitentiary. My gift is observation. Probably. And probably I would have made a great trial lawyer. Albeit a slightly inconsistent one, prone to wild brilliancies and tremendous troughs in form… so probably not that great, really. Awful, to be honest. But on a generous hourly rate. So… Listen, darlings, I’m starting to stomp again! The carpet. Some hearts and minds. Sure. Why not. Out in the night air the electricity skips off my bald head and ignites zeppelins of incredulity. And I wonder briefly if a computer might ever come up with such a line… I wonder then what that would make of us. God, I hope I’m dead by then. God. Yes. It seems certain to happen. Of course I will be dead. In one way or another. The worms or the flames running amok. How I envy the rollicking lines of Rabelais and Blake when life was so much more bacterial. You know, I once watched my wife spend four hours on the computer working out the best way to make fifty dollars on a six month term deposit. Certain banks had better deals, you see. $52 here… $48 there… $51.75…