169. March 15

Dear San Fransisco,

Truly I have left my heart with you. You were a sheer joy. A pain worthy of the Ides of March, but a sheer joy nonetheless. I loved your crooked Lombard Street, your quirky Chinatown, your breathtaking piers, and the your stunning architecture. But all the joys you gave me, none was greater than the five minutes alone I had in the poetry room of City Lights Books. Never have I seen such a spectacular collection of poetry in one place. For those few minutes alone, I am quite sure my visit your way was well worth it. I will return someday.

Sincerely,

Me

"True literature can exist only where it is created, not by diligent and trustworthy officials, but by madmen, hermits, heretics, dreamers, rebels, and skeptics."

~ Yevgeny Zamyatin