152: Today, all my vows are oaths to your kindness, constancy, love, you bet.
Back when there was a hell, each vow seemed sufficient
and inclusive for a new occasion of faith.
It’s easy, too unenlightened, even dishonest now.

Once back in the day the fair-minded had more complex appetites,
sworn to give loving eyes to blindness they brainstormed over such innocence —
half-truths, lies never happened. But

in a larger context there was the most recidivism in fashion and lit.
Dante nibbled fast, in very mumbled tones... under a huge, ampersand-shade of grace.

There was a terrific wine list — and one knew one’s balletic twists down pat,
drinking perfusions as he had at strangers shedding their platform boots.