And then they are there all of the people depressed 
Into tattoos or footprints or names plastered 
Or carved into wood or wall 

Do you have a favorite time of day? Favorite weather?
Tell me about your writing process.
Is that so? I would never have guessed.

The film begins in Venice
As conceived by the dreamer before
He begins his journey, which ends

The first time I met Wittgenstein, I was
late. “The traffic was murder,” I explained.
He spent the next forty-five minutes

free advertising
all day and night

Freddie Mercury
Venus Williams
Bruno Mars

Even in Rembrandt’s portraits,
they don’t look like a ruling class,
and their wives are no less pronounced, prizing money not blood, merit

I know that feeling you have: wanting the world,
at last, to yield something, the way liquor does—
an angle, an idea, a color, a deepening.

Niccolo is restless in his bed. He wants
to run, wants to cut out over the humped
Italian countryside while the fields are still

In solitude, what happiness? asks Adam,
   with all of Paradise before him, for him.
The birds of the air, the beasts of the field,