That Summer When She Was Eighteen, It

Accept That, Like Many Men, You Have A Streak Of The Homoerotic In You. Why Would You, Why Would Anyone, Want To Be That Straight?

On A Summer Night It Can Be Lovely To Sit Around Outside With Friends After Dinner And, Yes, Read Poetry To Each Other. Keats And Yeats Will Never Let You Down, But It's Differently Exciting To Read The Work Of Poets Who Are Still Walking Around Out There.

I Don't Think Two People Could Have Been Happier Than We Have Been.

Man," He Said, "i'm Not Afraid Of Graveyards. The Dead Are Just, You Know, People Who Wanted The Same Things You And I Want." "what Do We Want?" I Asked Blurrily. "aw, Man, You Know," He Said. "we Just Want, Well, The Same Things These People Wanted." "what Was That?" He Shrugged. "to Live, I Guess," He Said.

You Want To Give Him The Book Of His Own Life, The Book That Will Locate Him, Parent Him, Arm Him For The Changes.