The danger with reading poems chronologically as we have been doing for the last eighteen months is that it’s tempting to read into the poems. Sometimes a line will jump out at me while I’m watching TV and the next thing I know I’ve a poem dangling from it that follows on naturally from that first line but really has nothing to do with what’s going on in my life. I loved F. and I still do. It doesn’t matter that I’ve not seen her in over twenty years and we’ve both remarried. Of course I love Carrie who I’ve been with for nineteen years and you’re not supposed to be able to be in love with more than one person at a time but I’ve always had a problem with that. None of the other loves impose that restriction on you. Hate certainly doesn’t or envy so what’s so special about in-love-ness?