Preface to Love II—Amor II, Collected Poems

Charity’s kindness to carnal love, one word, love (amor), covers so much ground. Love’s a touch with many pressures—driving pins or causing flight, to filling the soul with joyous rhapsodies. In its gentler forms it makes rational sense—the love of family, of friends, of community, of nature . . . In its raucous forms it has an illogical sense for it’s meant to bind a man and woman in a way that will keep them together—to breed and raise a family.

In that mating game, illogic’s logic is of most importance—for, no one who truly loves you can be truly sane (for then it’s not true love). And yet¡No one wants to be stuck with a truly crazy person! Besides, any sane girl wants her guy to “stick” around and help raise a family, so she’s got to sniff our that sense that he’s “madly” in love. And the guy, well, he wants to feel that she’ll be his and only his; but he doesn’t want a basket case either. ¿Complicated enough for you? It’s worse than that,—that’s why at this point in life I’d rather write about it and only occassionally venture to experience it anymore.

Interestingly, I’ve known rare couples that love each other passionately and got through all the craziness of love intact. I don’t pretend to know when love becomes angst, or when love turns sour into bitter hate, or even all the forms of love; but, I know that even as I approach the grave—white hairs or no hairs, the memories of loves gone by still spring up in a moment’s reverie or in a flirtatious occasion. Cupid’s inspirations always cause my heart to skip some beats.

The chapters are not organized in any particular order. This is Volume II.