A Donde Vamos?

Last night my kisses drowned in the softness of black hair,
And my kisses like bees went plundering the softness of black hair.
Last night my hands were thrust into the mystery of black hair,
And my kisses like bees went plundering the sweetness of pomegranates
And among the scents of the harvest above my queen’s neck,
the harvest of black hair;
And my teeth played with the golden skin of her two ears.
Last night my kisses drowned in the softness of black hair,
And my kisses like bees went plundering the softness of black hair.
--From the Afghan of Muhamadji, 19th century

I took the above excerpt from a beautiful little book I found at the library called Love Songs of Asia, published by Knopf in 1946.


I believe that life has a purpose, but at times it seems that life has no purpose.

Next week I will have to appear before a judge where my long estranged wife and her lawyer will try to extract from me a laundry list of financial commitments and also to take away custody from me of my son. I believe I have offered her a fair settlement but she will not settle for anything less than all she can get.

Wanted: Woman to walk the beach with me, must be in good physical condition, age not important. Intellectual, physical, sexual vitality desired; nothing but walking and talking required.