If Man Knew How Women Pass The

We May Achieve Climate, But Weather Is Thrust Upon Us.

I Wanted To Paint A Picture Some Day That People Would Stand Before And Forget That It Was Made Of Paint. I Wanted It To Creep Into Them Like A Bar Of Music And Mushroom There Like A Soft Bullet.

This Fair But Pitiless City Of Manhattan Was Without A Soul ... Its Inhabitants Were Manikins Moved By Wires And Springs.

She Plucked From My Lapel The Invisible Strand Of Lint (the Universal Act Of Woman To Proclaim Ownership).

When A Man Begins To Be Hilarious In A Sorrowful Way You Can Bet A Million That He Is Dyeing His Hair.