It's evening now and I find the storming new york almost lovable again, almost peaceful and almost sincere. sitting under the cafe canopy on prince street, writing about the midwestern tumbleweed. the lovers from denmark say i still hold the city in my heart, they can tell, they say, by the way i direct them to the williamsburg galleries and the central park boat yard and the natural history museum. howling to you, L ... X=h.m