Writing Is A Refuge From Unhappiness, But

Three Meals Plus Bedtime Make Four Sure Blessings A Day.

If I Could Do My Life Over, I Would Try To Cleanse At Least My Pleasures Of Self-pity.

Confess To The Misdeeds You Cannot Hide.

An Illicit Love Affair Seems Sweetly Old-fashioned In The Age Of One Night Stands And Orgies.

My Noisy Denunciation Trails Off In Doubt.