"In every instant there’s dying and coming back around. Muhammad said, This world is a moment, a pouring that refreshes and renews itself so rapidly it seems continuous, as a burning stick taken from the fire looks like a golden wire when you swirl it in the air, so we feel duration as a string of sparks"

To walk alone,
drink coffee alone,
explore alone.

To watch lovers ride gondolas
and not mind,
much.

To be lost alone,
down shady, sinking streets where
each step remembers Atlantis with each tide.

To invade those spaces
where Venicians hide from touristica,
to sup their coffee in secret places.

To breathe soap-power
wind blown laundry,
as degradation fills canals.

To be lost,
alone in Venice,
is to be easily found.

The city is small,
the labyrinth bends in on itself,
and the number of paths is finite.

Alone, the questions
of this way or that
are up to you, alone.

Whether or not God is going to cut us down, the cult of celebrity, redemption, salvation, do it your self theology, life, death, Christian iconography, how we are all the common people, conflict of faith and fatalism and what a great voice JC has.